


The Heir of Lorien

by martykate



Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom
Genre: Blessed Realm, Danger, Dol Guldor, Elves, Eregion, Esgaroth, Evil, F/M, Gen, Greenwood, Imladris, Lorien - Freeform, Lorinand, Lothlórien, Mirkwood, Mordor, Moria, Noldor - Freeform, Rivendell, Silvan elves, Wood Elves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-07-29 13:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martykate/pseuds/martykate
Summary: The Second Age has ended in fire and blood; the Third Age is beginning. The Enemy is not dead, but sleeps as the Elves know all too well.But in Lorien a joyous event has occurred, the Lady Galadriel has born a daughter. But she knows this daughter will be one unlike any in Elven history, for she first drew breath at the exact moment that Gil-Galad, Elven King, and Elendil, King of Men, perished in combat on Mount Orodruin (Mt. Doom).Celebriel Laurelin, daughter of Galadriel, was born under circumstances both auspicious and ill-omened. Still, her arrival is a joy to her parents and the elves of Lorien who claim her for their own. But shortly after her sister's Wedding to Elrond of Imladris--or Rivendell, she finds herself sent away from her beloved Lorien. Something is searching for her, some evil seems to be seeking her out. Is it looking for her, or her mother, or both?But Celebriel has seen her own destiny, and the first time a bow is placed in her hands she knows she is fated for something else. Amroth, Lorien's king, sees it too, and when he sends her to help keep watch on Lorien's fences, she realizes he sees her as more than the daughter of Galadriel, he sees her for herself





	1. The Coming of Celebriel

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I was in my twenties when I started this and I thought, somehow, trying to imitate Tolkien's language and style would be cool. If I ever re-wrote this part I might change it, but now it seems like too much trouble. Please forgive my indulgence to my 20 yr old self
> 
> Also, please do understand this is not a Legolas/OC romance. Also, my character will not become a member of the Nine Companions. I do have a place where I intend to put her in the Great Battle, but all will be revealed in time.

I, Eldarion Telcontar, Second King of Gondor in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth, do hereby set down the “Lay of Celebriel” at the bequest of my beloved late mother, Queen Arwen Undomiel. For this is what she said to me long ago: “She was my dearest friend, with the exception of Elrond my father in the days before our estrangement. I would have the memory of her kept by my descendents lest her tale be forgotten. For it was she who gave me comfort when I was denied all other, and she who kept my spirits from sinking into total despair in the days before I married King Elessar.”  
And though I know not where my beloved mother’s last resting place may be, I dedicate this to her, this story that she told me. And though I knew her not, I will treasure this story of her for my mother’s sake, and I and my descendents will not forget her.

 

She was named Celebriel Laurelin for Laurelindorinan, which the elves now call Lothlorien, where the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel had come to dwell. She had been conceived during the last days of the assault of the Last Alliance of Men and Elves upon Mordor, and Galadriel had felt the first movements of the babe in her womb at the same moment that Gil-galad and Elendil the Tall had perished upon Mount Orodruin. 

Though she wished that this child might be a son she was glad still at the birth of another daughter, for Celebrian her firstborn was betrothed to Elrond Half-Elven and would some day depart to make her dwelling there with him.

When the War at last was over, at Elrond’s request, the christening feast was held at his great house at Imladris. There were many of the Elven great present, and also a few of the house of Isildur, Elendil’s son, for in those days the Last Alliance was still Fresh in the minds of men, and Elendil’s heirs were not sundered from the Elder. Far and wide had they come to attend the solemnities, for the birth of this Elf-child was seen as a symbol of great hope, a sign that the Dark Days were surely over and that peace would once more reign in Middle Earth.

But there was not all rejoicing. Instead of the gold of the Lady, or the Silver of the Lord, the baby was born with tresses of fiery red. Instead of sea grey, the baby’s eyes were the green of emeralds. Though some declared this a miracle, to others it was a sign that the flames would rise once more from Amon Amarth, and that the Enemy would rise and war would again inflict itself on Middle Earth.

The child grew quickly, a marvel of dignity and grace. When Celebrian her sister went to Imladris to be wed, Celebriel attend upon her. Many who saw her were enamored of her, not the least Glorfindel of the Noldor who dwelt in the house of Elrond. So taken with her was he that he spent much time with her in the following days, teaching her to ride a horse without the aid of saddle or bridle, and at her request teaching her to use a bow and arrows that he made for her himself.

As she grew older her skill with these greatly increased, and she learned also how to use a sword and javelin. Indeed anything that she was determined to master she did. She could ride as well as she could weave, and play upon a harp as skillfully as she could throw a javelin. If at times it seemed that she showed less interest in the more feminine pursuits than was proper, Galadriel did not redress her. She knew that there were times when the feminine things held her interest, and that her daughter could even be vain of her personal appearance.

There was yet another thing that made Galadriel hold her peace. Celebriel bore an uncanny resemblance to her own brother, Finrod the Felagund, who had fallen defending the life of Beren One-hand. It was first she, then Celeborn, who had noticed this, and as Celebriel grew older the resemblance became stronger, if not uncanny. Though Celebriel’s hair was fiery red where Finrod’s had been golden, the semblance in her face was striking. It also seemed that his skill in arms was also being passed to her daughter. This troubled Galadriel greatly, but she would not speak of it.

If it had been her choice, she would not have wished this upon her daughter, but still it was there. “She is like him, but not like unto him,” she would say to herself. “Truly in temperament she is often more like him than Celeborn or myself. If this is indeed the path she has chosen for herself, it is not for her or her father to say her nay. But may Varda grant that her fate will not be that of his.”

One day she showed Celebriel a sword that had been his, saying, “This have I kept that belonged to Finrod my brother. It was wrought in Gondolin long ago, and some day I will give it to you. But I do not give it to you now, that will come on the day when you are worthy of it.” Celebriel took the blade in her hand and said, “This I will cherish in the name of he who once bore it. I will myself someday worthy of it, and will be proud to bear it for the sake of he whom it had belonged to.”

With much practice and patience, Celebriel grew proficient in the use of arms and begged the Lord and Lady for permission to ride with the patrols that kept watch upon the borders of Lorien. Though loath to do so, they granted this, but would not allow her out on more serious forays. She did not wish to contest their wishes but vowed to herself that she would find a way to circumvent this if the need arose. For the moment she contented herself with spending as much time out as she was allowed and sometimes returned only with reluctance.

Her other great love was learning, and she set herself to learn everything that she could. She learned the lore of the peoples of Middle Earth, and how to speak the all the languages of Elves, Men, and also the dwarves. She also learned to write these in the runic and Feanorian letters, though the mastery was hard and slow. She learned from her mother the arts of healing, and she spent many hours learning the uses of the various herbs. She would apply herself so hard that often her mother would take her by the hand, saying, “Do not press yourself so hard. Go out and ride, or walk in the woods, there will be plenty of time for lessons.” And Celebriel would ride happily once more to the borders.

The years passed by in this fashion, and she knew not but what it was to be happy. She grew up knowing nothing but boundless love, and had the sweetness of nature of one who knew not what sorry and bitterness were. She was beloved in all of Lorien for herself, and not because she was the daughter of Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. She felt that life had truly blessed her and she wished only that it would go on forever as it was. 

 

Glorfindel of Imladris came to dwell for time in Lorien and in him she found a friend who could be counted upon for help if the attentions of the Lord or the Lady could not be spared. He once again became her teacher, and helped her hone her skills. Whatever she wished for it seemed that he would magically produce. When she said one day that she wished for a golden peregrine falcon the next day Glorfindel presented her with one. Then, as if he read her mind, he presented her with a poniard that had a haft of silver in which was inlaid a flower of bronze set with a topaz in the middle.

She found his attentions a puzzle, and wondered why he would shower her with gifts—and what the Lord and Lady thought of it. If she questioned him as to why, he would merely say that she took so much pleasure in the things he gave her that it was a joy to fulfill her every wish. “That is only half an answer,” she would tell him, but try though she may he would say no more. All she could do was to let the matter lie, but never was she content with the answer he would give her.

Outside of these things, there was no trouble in her world. But as time passed she began to feel something that troubled her, something that she could not quite put a name to, only feel that it was there. There were times when she would see a cloud pass across her mother’s face and knew somehow she felt it, too. One day she could keep her peace no longer. She and her mother had watched the sunset, and she had seen the shadow flicker across her mother’s face. She slipped her hand into Galadriel’s and said softly, “I feel it too. What is it, Mother?”

“I am not sure, child,” Galadriel said to her, “Tell me what it was that you felt.”

Celebriel stared off into the distance. “I am not sure,” she said slowly, “At times it has felt like someone is looking for me whom it must not let find me. Something is there for a fleeting second and then is gone. But it feels as if it is searching for my very will, and would not let go of me if it found what it sought. It is like a waking nightmare, brief as it is, and I am glad when it has passed. What it is I truly do not know.”

Galadriel held her close and thought to herself, “It is my ring, he is searching for my ring. I wore it whilst I carried her in my womb, and when I brought her into the world. The knowledge of it has not yet wakened inside her but someday she will know she is the child of Nenya as much as my own. Someday she will even know my thoughts, for its power is growing within her.”

“Let us hope it is nothing,” she soothed as she stroked her daughter’s fiery mane. But this troubles me and I like it not. When next this happens you must tell me of it. Promise me this and do not forget what I have told you.” Celebriel nodded solemnly.

The next day she spent riding in the woods, away from the city, her mother’s words far from her mind. But that evening she summoned into the presence of her mother. “We will walk together in the twilight,” Galadriel said, “and watch the stars of Elbereth come out.” She dismissed her maidens, and she and Celebriel walked out of the city and under the trees of Cerin Amroth. They sat beneath a tall mallorn tree and Celebriel pillowed her head in her mother’s lap. Galadriel combed her hair with a golden comb and sang to her a song that her mother had sung to her in the days when she dwelt in the blessed realm of the Valar.

She finished her song and for a moment both were silent, still caught up in the magic of the song. Galadriel was the first to speak and break the spell. “Your sister now has three children, none of whom you have seen,” she said, “Many times she has asked that you come to see her in Imladris and each time you have refused. She has asked again that you come to dwell with her for a time, and I have told her that I will ask you. It would please me very much if you did this, my daughter.”

Celebriel sat up. “There is more that you do not say, Mother,” she said to her, half in anger, “It is because of yesterday that you say this to me. Because of what I told you, you would send me away from Lorien. Why do you not say that instead? And I will tell now that I do not wish to leave.”

“If there is peril in the south,” Galadriel said sharply, “there may also be danger in the north. Remember you so little of what I have taught you that you do not realize that it may be so? There may yet be a time when travel between the north and the south may be much more hazardous for it bodes in my heart that a shadow may rise that is now only asleep.” Her voice softened a little. “I say only to you that your sister misses you. Greatly loved of her were you when you were young. I ask only that you go to visit her. Soon you will be of an age when where you dwell and what you do must be yours to decide. I do not ask that you leave Lorien forever, only to visit Imladris for a little while. Will you not do this for your sister’s sake?”

Celebriel sighed and knew that she was defeated. “You command me though you say that you do not command me. If you wish me to go to Imladris then I must do as you ask. But I will say this to you; I go only for a little while, and only as long as I please. The woods of Laurelindorinan are my home and my namesake. I will not abide being away from them for any longer than I must.”

“Do not let your displeasure mar what may prove to you a joy in the end,” Galadriel told her, “In Imladris Elrond will be your teacher if you so wish. He is wise in the ways of both Elves and men. Many things have his eyes seen through the long years and there is much that you can learn from him.” She stood up and beckoned to her daughter, “Come now, we will go back to the city. Mayhap in the morning things will not seem so ill.”

“About that I do not know,” Celebriel thought rebelliously while she followed her mother back to Caras Amroth.

The next day she received a piece of news that helped to lighten her heart a little. She had not seen Glorfindel since the previous day, but he came to her in the late afternoon. “I hear you grieve at the thought of leaving Lothlorien,” he told her, “I thought that perhaps I could help lift your spirits. I find that I am growing homesick for Imladris; therefore I shall accompany you on your journey. And if that is not enough to cheer you,” he smiled, “I have a gift for that you that most surely will please you.”

“Your generosity spoils me,” she said and managed to return his smile, “And what pray tell is this gift that you have for me?”

“Ah,” he replied, “I will not tell you, but I will show it to you instead. But first I must bind your eyes.” He wrapped a silk scarf gently over her eyes so that she could not see, and took her by the hand. “You must follow where I lead, and there will you see it.”

She could not tell where they were going, not at first, but soon she could smell straw and the scent of horseflesh. It was then that they stopped, and he unbound her eyes. “Behold, my gift to you,” he said, “Look now and tell me if your heart still grieves.”

For a moment she could not speak, only stare. Then she put her arms about him and hugged him. “Oh thrice blessed Glorfindel—the best and truest of friends. You have read my heart’s desire, however did you know? This truly is the best gift that I have ever received!”

In a stall near the one that housed his white stallion stood a slender dapple-grey mare. She had tiny erect ears, and her dainty grey muzzle had just a flush of pink in it. Her dark luminous eyes surveyed calmly all that was going on, and she did not flinch or start when Celebriel threw her arms around her slender grey neck. She even nuzzled the hands that stroked her velvety nose, and then whickered softly as if to show her approval of whom she had been presented to.

“She is a foal out of Asfaloth,” Glorfindel said as Celebriel ran her hands over the mare’s flanks and back, “I have taken the liberty of giving her a name—Ariel. I hope you approve. You may ride her without saddle or bridle, for her gaits are as smooth as her sire’s. Treasure her for she and her offspring will serve you faithfully.”

“I will treasure her always,” she said, “as much for the giver as the gift herself. I say to you, were there naught else you had given me, this gift alone would earn my eternal friendship as well as my eternal gratitude.”

“I am glad to have your friendship as well as your gratitude,” he told her, “the friendship of the Lady Celebriel is worth much to me, and happy indeed am I that I have it.”

That evening they rode together and Celebriel pondered his words. Once again she felt that there was a hidden meaning to them that she did not understand. “Someday,” she said to herself, “ Someday I will guess the meaning of his riddles.” But for the time being she would put the matter out of her mind, she decided, for there was enough to occupy her at the moment.

She spent the following days resigning herself to the fact that she must go to Imladris whether she willed it or not. Her mother and her maidens were sewing her new garments for her journey north, including clothes for riding. She was not clad in grey or white, but a dark green such as the wood elves might wear. She was spared a lady’s riding habit and mannish garments out of dark green wool were made for her instead. With these went a pair of high brown boots which color matched the trim of her cloak.

Though she knew it not, her masculine attire made her resemblance to her mother’s brother all the more pronounced. Galadriel said nothing of it, but more than ever she wished that she could shelter her daughter from all harm, knowing, however, no good would come of the trying. She knew the day was not far off when Celebriel would want to shake off the yoke of her parents. And knowledge of the ring, that soon would come, too. “All too soon,” thought Galadriel.

“She is going to want her independence soon,” she thought to herself, “And we will have to grant it to her though it pains us. No good will it do to try and keep her a child. She will learn to live with her link to the ring, how to shut her mind to he who is attempting to find it. Oh, how I wish I could protect her, but the time will come when she must do so herself. But I will her, my last baby, more than I miss her sister, and not because I love her sister the less.”


	2. A Journey to Imladris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebriel and her escort are making their way to Lorien. When they stop to camp in the ruins of Eregion, Celebriel sees a vision of the past

The days flew by and finally it was time for them to leave. On that day the dawn rose bright and cold. Celebriel found to her surprise that her spirits were high and she was actually looking forward to the journey. Her mare seemed to sense her excitement and pranced about as if she too was anxious to be off. 

At last Glorfindel came riding up to her, “Well, my Lady Celebriel, are you ready?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she replied, “It is a beautiful morning for riding.” As she embraced her parents she realized that she would miss them more than she had imagined, and for a moment the beauty of the morning was clouded by the sadness she felt at leaving them. She brushed away the tears that she felt upon her cheek and turned and mounted Arial so that none should see them. “Fare you well, Mother, Father,” she said, “I shall see you if you come to Imladris; if not, when I return.”

“Guard our treasure well,” Celeborn said, “And keep her from harm, if not her own foolhardiness. I will miss you, my daughter, but the parting will not be for long.”

“Do not leave the escort to ride on your own, Celebriel,” Galadriel told her, “But fare you well, and may you safely reach your journey’s end.”

At last they were truly off. By sundown they would reach the borders of the Golden Woods and there they would spend the night. As they rode they passed a company of elves returning to the city, and they greeted them merrily. For a brief moment Celebriel wished that she were marching with them, but put the thought out of her mind. Instead she looked at the beauty about her, to ingrain in her mind its memory to sustain her for the time she would be away.

As they rode, Glorfindel told her of Imladris, asking her if she remembered certain things, telling her of marvels she may have forgotten, but secretly she thought to herself that it would be no comparison to the Lorien that she loved. For one, there were no mallorn trees, and she thought that a place without those would be desolate indeed. But there were many other travelers that passed in and out of Elrond’s house, and for the first time she would see the peoples of other races, dwarves and men. Of those she was not yet sure what she would think, but she had decided to reserve her judgment until she encountered them.

They spent the night in the trees on Lorien’s borders. The next night, Glorfindel told her, they would spend in the Dimrill Dale next to the Mirrormere which the Dwarves named Kheled-zarum. From there they would follow the Dimrill Stair and pass through the Redhorn Gate that would take them through the Hithlaegir, or the “Misty Mountains as it was called in the Common Speech.

“For the first time you will have a chance to converse in the tongues of Men. You will find that the speech of the Dunedain is much like that which we speak, with a few variations. The Westron tongue is also commonly used and there are many in Imladris, which they call Rivendell, who speak it.”

“Rivendell.” She sounded the word out on her tongue, “Rivendell. How strange it sounds. But no less strange than the tongue of the dwarves sounds to me. I have learned these languages with never a thought of when I would actually use them, and now I am going to.” But she had never foreseen the day she would actually have to leave Lorien, either, she thought to herself.

“You will have many chances to use them in Imladris,” he told her, “but I hope there is no chance to use them until we get there. I am hoping that we will go unmet during our journey. There is no peril—I hope—between here and our destination’s end that I know of, but we must keep careful watch none the less.”

 

“And I may look upon Durin’s Stone and see his crown in the Kheled-zarum. Fair indeed it must have been in the days before the death of Celebrimbor, when many fair folk dwelt in Eregion. But that was before my time, and now there is nothing left. She fell silent for a moment as Glorfindel looked at her. “I have heard the story many times,” she explained, “about the building of Moria and the making of the Rings. I have often wanted to ride alone to Moria, and see it for myself, but I have been forbidden to ride past the fences of Lorien.

“You would be foolish indeed to ride to Moria alone, let alone to pass its gates,” he said to her, “We will pass no where near its gates. There are those who fear there yet may be an evil that hides there, though of this we do not yet have proof. But the Mirrormere is fair to look upon, and I will come with you when you look on Durin’s stone and upon his crown in the waters of the mere.”

They came that evening to the foot of the Dimrill Stair. They chose to camp beside the road a little ways away from the lake, and out of sight of the sad ruins of stone buildings that now stood empty. “Come,” Glorfindel beckoned to her, “We will look upon the Mirrormere.” They went down the steep slopes and came to the spot where the tall pillar stood near the lakeshore. Though not yet so old, the runes could not be read in the twilight, so they went down to the lake to gaze upon its waters.

So dark were and deep were the waters that the last colors in the skies could not be seen. As they look they could see the light of more than the first stars that were shining in the evening sky. “We would have sacrificed much for a place like this, wouldn’t we Glorfindel?” she asked. “I had heard that the dwarves thought this place as fair as Lorien is to we who dwell there. Until I saw this sight I had no idea as to shy.” She stood up and looked about her. The Misty Mountains stretched far into the north, and she knew that somewhere the gates of Moria must lie.

“Fair indeed is this place to the children of Durin,” Glorfindel said gravely, “And they lost much before they were finally willing to leave. Yet even we of the Elves hold too tight to things, and we have suffered much for our foolishness. But come, we will not be sad for I have promised you a merry journey. We will not mourn tonight for the sorrows of a yesterday long past.” He gave her his hand and they returned to where they had made camp for the night.

At her insistence she was given a turn at watch that night. The night was clear and many stars were in the sky as she watched the moon climb to its zenith. All was quiet, and for a moment she knew the peace that was hers when she kept vigil on the fences of the Golden Wood. She looked often at the road as if she expected to see a company of dwarves coming up it on their way to the mines though she knew that Moria had been abandoned long ago and dwarves came no longer to Durin’s great city.

Suddenly she thought she saw something on the road, then looked again to make sure that her eyes were not playing her false. There had been naught but silence in the still night, but now she could hear a faint melody that got stronger and stronger. Soon her sharp eyes spotted a company of nine small men who carried picks and bags slung over their shoulders. She could see nothing in the light save their silhouettes as they marched along, and silently she crept closer to the road so that she could have a better look.

She could hear the words of their song now, though she could not quite translate them as they sang. Their deep bass voices moved her, for they sang of their love for their works and the fair hall that passed all too soon from them forever. The tramping of their feet kept time to the rhythm of their song, accompanied only by the clinking of their iron mail. She kept herself hidden lest the vision—for vision it was—disappear from her sight. Part of her longed to be up there marching with them so that she, too, might see the wonders of the mines of Moria of which they sang.”

Soon they were lost in the shadows of the distance, now only a memory lost in the night. “What a vision I have had,” she though, “Dwarves of the Mines of Moria!” Through the rest of her watch their melody echoed in her mind, and years later in her dreams she would sometimes hear the song of the dwarves as they marched in the night to their once-fair halls under the Misty Mountains.

When she had been relieved she had thrown herself onto her bed and had fallen asleep almost immediately. She woke with the first light of the dawn and felt refreshed. The elves made a quick breakfast and were on their way again for Glorfindel was eager to have their journey over with as soon as possible so that they would arrive at Imladris before the weather became too severe. 

The country was now rough and barren, but as the company grew closer to Imladris they became more cheerful. Sometimes at night Glorfindel would play upon a harp and sing; there was also much laughter and merriment. Celebriel found herself wishing that the journey might never end for she loved to ride for hours through the wild country and sleep at night under the stars.

But in spite of her wishes the journey did come at last to an end. They arrived at Imladris early one evening. They stood on the crest of the hill and look down upon the lights of Elrond Half-Elvin’s great house. “Look, Celebriel,” Glorfindel said, “Our journey’s end at last. There before you lies the house of Elrond.” They rode down the hill and crossed the bridge over the river which men called the Loudwater and the Elves named the Bruinen.

A company of riders road to meet them. One rider came forward and Celebriel could not contain her excitement when she saw whom it was.

“Celebrian, sister!” she cried, and rode up to greet her.

“I bid you welcome my darling,” said Celebrian, “I have come to meet you for I was impatient to see you. Elrond and my children await you. Welcome back to your home, Glorfindel. I see you have brought my treasure safely to me. When all of you are freshened from your journey a feast awaits you. Your rooms are prepared, and I have ordered a hot baths so that you may wash away the dirt from the road. Come with me now.” She turned her mount around and they followed her to the house of Elrond.

They dismounted and grooms took their horses before the great portico. Celebriel could hear singing and laughter, and there was a group of Elves on the porch waiting to meet them, singing a song of greeting. A man stepped forward to greet them, tall and straight, his face fair and kingly. He seemed now young, now old, though no lines of age shown upon his face. 

He stepped forward and took Celebriel’s hand in his own. “Master Elrond,” she said. She saw his look of disapproval at her mannish garments, and looking into his eyes she saw a will as powerful as her parents’, and knew that there would be a battle of wills between them, one that would not die though the years wore on. And he will just have to abide with it, she thought. 

But his greeting was warm and courteous. “I bid you welcome to my house, Celebriel. We have long awaited your visit, and are glad that you have come here at last. My home shall be home to you, and may this first visit not be your last.” Celebriel murmured her thanks. 

Two boys and a girl close to her own age came forward at a gesture from Elrond. “Elrohir and Elladan my sons,” he said, and a young women, fair of face, more beautiful than anyone save her mother to Celebriel’s eyes. “Arwen, my daughter.” 

Arwen took her by the hands and kissed her on both cheeks, her eyes shining. “I am so glad you have come,” she said, “Like a sister you will be to me.”

Celebriel’s heart was won. She returned Arwen’s kiss. “And I to you.”

“Come little sister,” Celebrian came forward and took her hand, “I can see you are tired. A bath awaits you in my chambers and I have clean garments waiting for you. Suddenly fatigue seemed to wash over Celebriel and she followed her sister into the great house. 

The bath, a real bath for the first time in many days, refreshed her and she felt her energy and her spirits rise. She washed the dust out of her hair and combed the tangles out of it. Then she allowed Celebrian to dress her in one of her own gowns, a soft white garment belted with a silver girdle set with white gems. Her sister’s maidens would have braided her hair but for her refusal; likewise she refused to put a cap on her head. She allowed them only to tie it back with a silver ribbon and let her long locks trail down her back.

She looked at herself in the mirror, and thought that her clothes would now prove more to Master Elrond’s liking. “Oh well,” she thought to herself, “It does not matter what he thinks of me.” She debated as to whether or not she should act subdued for a while, for as long as it suited her purposes. Elrond would fin that her will would not easily be subverted.

Celebrian and her maidens left her chamber, and after she did, Celebrian pulled the ribbon from her hair and shook out her dark red tresses. She played with the ribbon, trying it this way, now that way; but no matter what she did she was not happy with the way it looked.

“Here, let me if you will,” a voice said behind her and she saw Arwen’s reflection in the mirror. She smiled and handed the ribbon to her. “Let me try it like this,” she said and bound the ribbon around Celebriel’s forehead like a filet, then surveyed her handiwork. 

“How green your eyes are—like a great cat’s. Mother has told me of your eyes and hair, and I have often wanted to see them for myself. And the white gown makes them more so. I think they are beautiful. Against the color of your hair and skin they seem to rival even the color of emeralds.”

“Father teases me about them. Sometimes he tells me that I am a changeling sprite that fairies slipped into my cradle.” Both girls laughed at this and Celebriel realized that she liked this girl very much.

“But come,” Arwen said, “Mother has sent me to tell you that we are expected now. And such a feast has been prepared, the cooks have been busy all day.”

“With your help I am now ready. Lead on, oh fair daughter of my sister.” Both girls burst into peals of laughter and a fast friendship had been formed, a friendship that would last through the long ages, never to waver.


	3. The Feast and a Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elladan and Elrohir must learn the true meaning of "fight like a girl"

Great tables had been set in the hall, covered with snowy white cloth. Dishes of all sorts already had been laid upon them, and the aroma of food was making her hungry as she and Arwen seated themselves next to Celebrian. From her viewpoint she could see many folk, Elves, Men, and Dwarves and for a time she found herself forgetting her manners as she stared in wonder at the peoples she had never seen before.

Elrond sat at the head of the table, and Glorfindel sat at his right. At times she could feel Glorfindel’s eyes upon her and she would look at him and smile, but sometimes she felt uncomfortable and looked down at her plate. This feeling was alien to her and she wondered at it. She could lift her chin and meet Elrond’s with no trouble, but the old friend of her childhood was making her feel shy and unsure of herself, perhaps for the first time in her life.

Arwen nudged her and whispered mischievously, “I did not know you already had a suitor, oh fair sister of my mother.”

“What are you talking about?” she whispered back.

“Glorfindel. Look at his eyes when his gaze is upon you,” she said, “Look at him and tell me that you do not see it, too.”

“You see things that are not there,” Celebriel said, but she would not look at Glorfindel anymore, and felt all the more disconcerted.

At length all appetites were sated, and even the hungriest could eat no more. Elrond and Celebrian rose, and sent out of the feasting hall and into a great room lit only by a fire burning in a great hearth set between two carven pillars. Chairs had been prepared for some, others sat on cushions and suddenly the sound of music and fair voices singing filled the hall.

Had she been less fatigued, Celebriel would have gladly spent the rest of the night there, but she found that she could barely keep her eyes open. She did not remember how or when it happened, but somehow there had been someone who had helped her to her room and make herself ready for bed. She then fell immediately into a slumber filled with dreams as sweet as she could have wished for.

But the dreams faded with the morning. When she opened her eyes she looked about her and felt apprehensive in the strange surroundings. “I do not belong here, I should be at home, I never should have left Lorinand,” she said out loud.

She sat up, clutching her pillow to her. Was her secret safe, did any suspect? She wondered.

She recalled the last night she had spent in the Golden Woods. She’d been in the company of Amroth, King of Lorinand, and his consort, Nimrodel. They had been a refuge for her, a place to retreat from her mother’s people when she felt overwhelmed. Nimrodel’s house by the little river Amroth had named for her was quiet and peaceful, and she spent hours there in the company of the ruler of Lorinand.

They had given her a farewell present, now carefully hidden in her baggage. A sword, with the hilts set with yellow and white gems in the shape of a mallorn blossom. They’d also included a new bow and quiver of arrows, such as she’d often carried when she helped keep guard on Lorinand’s fences.

“This is our gift to you,” said Nimrodel solemnly, but there is one more, a thing that we have waited to tell you, lest your parents discover it.”

“You are to be my heir, Celebriel,” Amroth told her, “Nimrodel and I have no children and there is none other whom I would entrust the Golden Woods to.” He held up is hand as she started to object, “I know what you are thinking, child, but consider this: there are many among of us who only believe that Sauron is sleeping, only biding his time. Remember that Isildur did not destroy the Ring, so Sauron’s power still lives. There are rumors about that the Nazgul are only in hiding, so great evil still lives in this world.”

“The people of Lorinand know and love you,” Nimrodel added, “And your connection to the Noldor may aid you in times of trouble. You have some growing up to do, but someday you will become a great leader, we think. Alas, there is more that we wished to teach you, but there now is no time. There will always be people here who will help you, when you need it. You are the child we never had, Celebriel, and had we been blessed with a daughter, we would have wanted her to be like you.”

She took Celebriel into her arms and held her close, “Do not weep, my dearest child, you will always be in our thoughts.”

Celebriel did not return to the lord and lady for several days, but took refuge on the borders. She feared that she would never see Amroth and Nimrodel again the thought was more than she could bear.

There was a gentle tapping at the door and Celebrian entered the room. “Are you still in bed? The sun has been up for hours.”

“Not quite hours, sister, but for a while. I have been thinking. Tell me, how long am I to stay here?”

Celebrian had expected the question, but not quite so soon. “We had thought to have you here until you are summoned back…”

“By whom? Mother and Father? Or Amroth? I know our parents plan to leave Lorinand, but I had thought that I would stay there.” She began to rummage around in her coffers, looking for the men’s clothes that she had packed. She had desire to wear a gown and sit and spin with her sister and ladies.

“Where are my…oh, there they are.” She pulled out the grey tunic and white leggings she had packed. “See, this is how I dress, and I don’t spin nor do I wish to learn to. I can kill and dress a deer, I am an expert shot with an arrow. I could live on my own in the woods if I had to.”

Mother is right, thought Celebrian, she has grown headstrong but that is a Noldor trait. If not for that, we would still live in the Blessed Realm. “Very well,” Celebrian said out loud, “I expect that if I want to find you I should look in the armories. You are not released from your schooling, you will meet with Elrond every day and he will be your teacher.”

“Mother has taught me well, I don’t need any more lessons in Elvish history or lore or songs. “But,” she said. “If you promise to leave me to my own devices, do not force me to sit and spin with the women, I will consent to being tutored by Master Elrond.” She pulled out her leather jerkin, “Now, if you will let me get dressed, I am going to the kitchens for some food—I’m starving.”

Elladan and Elrohir did not know what to think of their aunt as they watched her make her way to the armories. They had never seen an elven woman and men’s garb, let alone one with fiery red hair that hung loose over her shoulders.

“What do make of this?” Elrohir asked his brother.

“I am wondering,” Elladan replied, “What Mother knew of this, or Father. I suspect that they did not expect a maiden clad in men’s clothes. Come, let us become better acquainted with our mother’s young sister—this may prove to be both interesting, and fun.”

Celebriel suddenly found herself flanked by the twins.

“Where are you going, aunt?” asked Elrohir mischievously, “Could we help you find your way?”

“Don’t call me ‘aunt’,” she said, not bothering to hide her irritation, then slapped away Elladan’s hand as he fingered a lock of her red hair.

“It didn’t even burn me,” he said in mock disappointment, “I’ve never seen hair like yours on elves or men.”

“Are you trying to amuse yourself on my behalf? All I’m trying to do is find the armories to try out the bows that are used in Imladris. I want to see if they are as good as the ones we make in Lorien.”

“And see the sword Glorfindel had made for you? Ow,” he said as Elrohir slapped his head, “Why did you do that?”

“Because he wanted to surprise her, and now, thanks to your loose tongue—as usual—it’s no longer a surprise.”

“But I have a new sword, Amroth and Nimrodel had one made for me, Mother wouldn’t let me bring mine—this one she knew nothing of.”

They made their way to the armories, and Celebriel turned and said, “So, nephews, is either one of you game for a little duel? First arrows, then sword? The winner can demand his prize, but nothing awarded if two events are not won.”

The sons of Elrond looked at each other. “We can demand anything we like if we win?”

“Yes, whatever you ask, but it will be the same for me,” she replied.

“Your dagger,” said Elrohir, “The one in your belt with the gems in the hilts. That’s very fine workmanship.”

“But what do you want of us should you win?” Elladan queried.

“Your cast off clothes, that’s what I want,” she replied.

“But why, your mother sent you here with many gowns, almost as many as Mother has. Why do you want our things?”

“If I wanted more gowns, would I ask you for your clothes? No, I don’t need gowns, but I need the garments you no longer want. Now, do we have a bargain?”

At that moment, Glorfindel appeared, walking across the wide lawn. He heard them arguing and approached them. “So the three of you are making mischief already? What could possibly be the matter?”

The boys looked at each other. “Celebriel’s challenged us to a dual of skill, bows and swords. We think she’s foolish, after all, she’s only a girl, she can’t possibly best us.”

Glorfindel smiled, “You may regret your words, but you do not know your aunt. She has had teachers that are the equal of any Imladris has to offer, I include myself in that. Very well, I will judge this contest and make sure it is played fairly.


	4. Two Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sons of Elrond lose their bet. Elrond sees the duel and is not pleased. He may be realizing that Celebriel may be more than he bargained for. Celebriel has a vision--or is it a vision?

Oh, this may or not be necessary, but I’ll do some defining of terms here  
Lorinand: The original name of Lorien. Treebeard tells Merry and Pippin that the original name was Laurelindorinan: Land of the Valley of the Singing Gold, but after Amroth, Nimrodel, and some of their people departed, it became Lothlorien: Dream Blossom  
Orodruin: Mount Doom  
Imladris: Rivendell

Glorfindel led the young elves into the armories to let them choose their weapons. There was much discussion between Elladan and Elrohir as to which sword or bow would be the best, but Celebriel made her way alone, testing the tension of bows, the balance of a sword, and made her decision on her own.

When they went outside, a small crowd had gathered to watch the contest. Celebriel had not expected this, but the sons of Elrond seemed pleased at the thought of defeating their aunt in front of an audience.

Glorfindel pointed at a distant tree, “The knot on that tree is your target. Each of you will release one arrow—if it misses its mark you will not be allowed another chance, aim well.”  
The boys tried to defer to Celebriel, wanting to see if she could hit the mark, but she refused. “You go first, each of you, then it will be my turn.” They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

The sons of Elrond had been trained well. They each selected an arrow, nocked it, and let it fly. Each arrow hit the notch neatly in the center. They smiled, pleased with themselves, then indicated that she should take her turn.

She drew an arrow, pulled it back and released. She had chosen a heavier bow than either of them and now they knew why. First one arrow split that of Elladan, then the next that of Elrohir. They stood, their mouths gaping, aghast at the spectacle before them.

“You did not need to show off, Celebriel,” Glorfindel admonished her, doing his best to hide his smile, “It would have been sufficient to merely hit the target.” The three walked over to the tree and Celebriel removed her arrows. “Your aunt has won this first round, now we will see how you fare in sword fighting, but be careful not to hurt each other, or Elrond will be unhappy with me for allowing this.”

He knew Celebriel might not be as skilled with a sword, but she proved him wrong. Though she had not achieved the height of her sister or the Lord and Lady, she had grown taller and stronger in the years since he had first seen her. Her archer's skills had strengthened her sword arm and had Elladan and Elrohir thought to tire her they were disappointed.  
The three young elves fought together, the boys fighting against each other as well as her. There was much laughing and taunting and running around. They showed off their skills shamelessly, clearly enjoying themselves.

“You fight like a girl,” Elrohir shouted at Elladan as he knocked his sword out of his brother’s hand. 

“Shall I show you how a girl fights?” Celebriel shouted at him. Elrohir was the more skillful of the two with a blade, but he was being hard pressed by her. They circled each other, swords clashing and it looked like the match might be a draw until one last swing knocked the sword out of his hand.

She stood triumphant, breathing hard and clearly happy at her victory. “Oh, well done, Celebriel, well done.” Elrohir put his arm around her shoulders, conceding to her victory.  
“Now you truly know how a girl fights,” she replied and they began, along with the crowd, to laugh and cheer.

Until she saw Elrond standing amongst them. I won’t let him steal this moment from me, she thought, this is my victory and I have earned it. If he did not know about me, which I doubt, now he knows for an absolute certainty. I am not Celebrian and Arwen, I am not “My Lady Celebriel”, nor shall I ever be. He cannot make me deny who and what I am.

Elrond stepped forward, observing his sons and his niece in silence. “A very impressive display, why did you not invite me to watch?” Celebriel opened her mouth to reply, but a look from Glorfindel silenced her. “Celebriel, will you come with me please?” asked Elrond.

She would have refused, but Glorfindel pushed her gently forward. The two walked away from the clearing and into a secluded part of the gardens where Elrond would often visit. He sat down on a carved wooden bench and indicated that she should sit beside him. She shook her head, whatever this was intended to be, she intended to face it standing.

“Do you know what you have chosen, Celebriel? Do you know what it means?” He looked into her eyes, holding her glance, but she was stronger than he thought and did not look away. “Come let us walk,” he said, and she followed as he led her along the paths she did not know yet.

“Why have I been sent here, Master Elrond? Did you and my sister convince my parents that under your tutelage I would learn to become a Noldor maiden? Did they fear that I was becoming too much wood elf and did not properly acknowledge my status?” She feared that to mention the other thing, to say it, or to even name it, might cause it to manifest.  
"I can help you if you let me. I know what you fear. Something happened to you at the moment of your birth—you know what it is I mean."

So he knew her secret. She knew, though the elves did not mention it, that her mother had been wearing the ring, Nenya, as she gave birth to her daughter, and that should not have been. Part of the power of the ring had passed into her, even as she had felt the deaths of Gil-Galad and Elendil as she drew her first breath. She had seen the flames of Orodruin, had seen the figure of Sauron as he watched man and elf fall.

She had always known what she was, for she could clearly see the ring on her mother’s hand as she now saw Vilya, with its blue stone, on Elrond’s. She did not need to say anything, for she was aware that he knew. But more was at stake than that.

"You say I was brought here for my protection? But there are enemies in the north, are there not? I think I was safer in Lorinand than I am here. It is true, I must learn to fight off what seeks to find me, but as I grow older I grow stronger. I am wise enough to seek help when I need it." Her eyes glittered like emeralds as she faced him.

He did not know how to win her, her anger at being forced from Lorinand was still raw. It was also plain that she would try to march with the armies of Imladris and this he would not allow. As if I can truly stop her, he thought ruefully, I do not know what I expected when she came here, another Celebrian? Most certainly, but it is plain that I was wrong. What did Galadriel expect of me when she asked me to take charge of her wayward daughter?

“Then if you have the wisdom to seek help, I expect you to do it. I have also promised your mother that I would be your teacher, for I have been told that you are better versed in woodcraft than you are in the history of your people.” He held up his hand, seeing her anger growing, along with her restlessness, “I only ask that you give me a part of your day, and not the greatest part. If you have questions, if there are things you wish to know, I will tell you. Come, this is not a punishment, but an opportunity. You know the lands around Lorien well, you do not know the north at all, do you?”

He is right, she thought, if I plan to escape from here, I will have to know the people and the countryside. The Wood Elves kingdom lies north of her, and I have kin among their people. They will expect me to try to run back to Lorinand, but they may not expect me to try to take refuge with Thranduil of the Greenwood.

Elrond tried to discern what she was thinking, but she could hide her thoughts more cleverly than he expected. Galadriel had been right, Celebriel would try his patience, but he was beginning to enjoy her quick mind, her restless spirit. It would require some delicacy to deal with her, for she would certainly turn on him if he angered her in any way. He would have to tempt her, draw her in to gain her trust.

“A part of your day, Celebriel, is all I ask. Someday you may even look forward to the time we spend together.”

She gave him a mock bow, and ran off, seeking someplace where she could be alone in her unhappiness.

 

She had outrun the voices that had been calling her, telling her to come back. She did not even know who had been calling her, she had only heard her name, “Celebriel, Celebriel, come back.” She had paid them no heed, but kept running until she was absolutely alone.

Now she realized why they had called her, she had reached the borders of Imladris. If she went further she would be free of Elrond’s lands, and the thought appealed to her. It was still early in the day, she had hours still of daylight—not that she needed it.

A road ran here, but it was not the one Glorfindel had taken into Imladris. She squinted up at the sun to determine its position and realized that the road headed east. This was wrong, there was only supposed to be one entrance into the Hidden Valley, was there some magic afoot?

No, I won’t follow this, she thought, I admit that I am tempted, but I know better than to lose myself, especially if something not of this earth is involved. She turned around to head back, but found herself following the eastern road. She turned again, determined to return to the house, but to no avail.

“All right,” she said out loud, “I am clearly meant to follow this road, but I fear where it may take me." Celebriel, she told herself, you were taught how find your way when you think are lost. Haldir would be disappointed if everything he taught you was in vain.

“Indeed he would, though I do not know him. The elves of Lorinand taught you well, please do not let it be in vain.”

An old man, robed all in grey, was speaking to her. He wore a pointed hat of a silvery blue color, and stood leaning on a tall staff. His hair was iron grey, but his grey eyes were youthful, and twinkling as he teased her. His mouth was tensed, but she could tell he was waiting to break into a smile any moment.

“Who are you, and are you the source of my confusion? Why is there a road headed east where there should be no road at all? I have only been here two days, but I know that much. Anyone who visits Imladris comes in through the western road, or not at all.” She tried not to sound rude, but the old man made her feel uneasy.

“How, young elf, do you know that I am here at all? Perhaps I am an illusion, perhaps you are talking to empty air and only think that you see me.” Now he was smiling, and she did not like the fact he seemed to be amusing himself at her expense.

“Then, if you are not here, will you at least tell me who I am not talking to? And make this infernal road disappear so I can go back to the house?” Suddenly the house of Elrond seemed like a haven from the bewilderment she felt. The old man did not seem threatening, but she knew little of magic and how it worked. She wanted more than anything for him to disappear.

“Very well, Celebriel, my name is Mithrandir, or Gandalf as men call me. I have been sent by your mother to see if you are all right. We will be seeing each other very soon." He disappeared in a cloud of grey smoke, and the easterly road disappeared with him.

She returned to the house, hungry for the noon meal and something familiar. In her room sat a grey chest, she opened it to find the clothes the sons of Elrond had promised, along with a travel-worn grey cloak trimmed with fur. She closed the chest and began to laugh, and her laughter took away the lingering fear that had accompanied her since her encounter with the old man who called himself Mithrandir.


	5. Mithrandir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebriel goes in search for the meaning of her vision and finds the answer

The bell for the mid-day meal rang. Celebriel dropped the cloak she held and realized she had not given herself time to change—an ironclad rule that Celebrian insisted upon. “No unsuitable clothing when you come to meals. You wear a decent gown, and your hair brushed and braided.”

“Even mother did not impose that on me, sister,” she said out loud as she folded the cloak and replaced it back in the coffer. “I will not go hungry just because you think I would disgrace your table.” She knew a better place to seek a meal.

She slipped down the stairs unnoticed and sought the kitchens. Here, she knew, the cooks kept back as good as they sent out. She would not be turned away, in spite of the fact that she was the sister of the Lady Celebrian. She had learned to seek refuge in kitchens long ago, enjoying the company of those who treated her as simply Celebriel, and not a princess of the Noldor.

Servers were coming and going, bearing the roasts, breads, and other staples found at Elrond’s table. The smell of roast venison was making her hungry and she longed for a tankard of wine.

“Look where the miscreant has sought refuge,” one of the elves said, “Are you in disgrace and barred from Master Elrond's table?" He began to fill a plate, heaping it with food and handed it to her. "You are in luck, as soon as the steward returns, he goes to the cellars to find us a bottle of wine, one that just came from Thranduil's kingdom in the North.”

She took the plate eagerly, “Alas, I have committed the sin of neglecting to change my clothes. I hoped that I might find better company here; you gave me such a generous breakfast this morning that I have returned for more.”

The elves laughed. They did not yet know the ways of this strange girl with her mane of red hair, but she was friendly and addressed them all in a courteous manner. She also had the healthy appetite of the young and returned her plate for a refill when she finished.

“Ah, he comes,” cried one of the elves, “Master Steward, what delicacy do you have for us?”  
The elf in question held up two bottles, “I am assured that these come from the cellars of Thranduil, himself, worthy of Elrond’s table, but no less worthy of ours, I think.” His eyes fell upon Celebriel, then he stammered, “But…”  
“But you’re going to fill our cups now, are you not? I am curious to find out if Thranduil’s wine is as good as that I drank in Lorien.” She held up her cup, “If you please?”  
Clearly relieved, he filled her glass first, then the cups of the various elves who wished to imbibe the stolen delicacy. As they drank and ate, their tongues, if hindered at all by Celebriel’s presence, began to loosen. The latest gossip and comings and goings began to fill the room.  
This was the best place, she knew, of discovering the goings on of the house and the surrounding area. Even in the kitchen, the elves knew of any talk of travelers who would be arriving in Imladris, where they came from, where they were going to. They also, curiously, knew of the affairs of the family, and the disgrace she would face for being absent from the meal, but she didn’t care.  
What did spark her interest was the name "Mithrandir" and the imminent news of his arrival at Elrond’s house. Was this the same Mithrandir who had appeared to her so mysteriously in the woods this morning? Just who was he, anyway? And what relation did he bear to her mother that he would inform her of her welfare? Was he someone Elrond was acquainted with?  
"Who is this Mithrandir?" she asked, "I have never heard his name before. Is he acquainted with Lord Elrond or my Lady mother? Will he be coming here? I am curious as to who this person is?"  
"He is one of the ‘Istari', one of the five wizards who has appeared since the end of the War of Elves and Men. Men call him Gandalf the Grey, we call him the Grey Pilgrim because he goes about clothed all in grey. I have heard that he was acquainted with the White Lady, so I am surprised you have not heard of him.”  
“I am surprised, but then again, I am not. I spent much of my time with Lorinand’s elves and did not pay much heed to the matters of the Noldor. If my mother had thought that I should know of him, I am sure I would. Lorinand deliberately isolates itself from the outside world, it is much safer that way.” And I am sure Mother’s magic helps, but what will they do when that power has left?  
"Well, you will meet Mithrandir soon, though when no one knows. For all of his power, he is a kindly soul. Any question you have he will endeavor to answer—unless he does not want to," he chuckled, "Now, for dessert, I have an apple tart and cheese, may I tempt you with that?" He reached for the bottle and refilled her cup.

After her meal and the good company that went with it, Celebriel had no wish to seek the company of her sister and Arwen. No one had told her she was forbidden to ride, though permission had not yet been given, and she was eager to explore outside Imladris' borders. She would try to borrow a horse from the stables and ride a short way down the road. Maybe she would steal a horse if necessary.

She did not admit it to herself, but her vision had her intrigued. Something was driving her forwards, perhaps it was to seek a glimpse of the mysterious Mithrandir in the flesh. If she met anyone on the road, she would merely greet them and move on. Her arrival was well known, and it would do no good to try to hide who she was. 

She confronted the Master of Horse with a dilemma. Ariel, her mare, had just made a long journey and needed her rest, was there a horse she could perhaps borrow? And to her surprise, there was. Perhaps Elrond had not anticipated her and saw no need to forbid her access to his stables, so a horse was found and presented to her. Not as well-bred as Ariel, but sturdy and well-gaited.

She rode without saddle or bridle, comfortable in her skills using feet and hands to manage her mount. The logical place to ride seemed to be in the direction of the bridge over the Bruinen (*Loudwater), and she let instinct guide her instead of trying to choose a path.

It was one of those late fall afternoons common to the North, but unlike what she was used to. Lorinand's leaves would be turning to gold to remain on the trees until the new growth of spring. It would be deliciously cool, but not the kind of cold she felt now, she thought as she clutched her cloak more tightly around herself. No wonder her mother had equipped her with so many warm clothes, it would take time to accustom herself to this new climate.

There were sentries on the bridge, but they let her pass. Maybe they weren’t paying attention, or they mistook her for one of the younger elves—but what about her red hair? Would they report that they’d seen her and send someone after her?

She wandered further down the road, taking in the autumn colors, the sunbeams shooting through the trees that she had only vaguely noticed when she arrived here. Then she had felt closed in by the elves that had escorted her, but now she was feeling a heady sense of freedom. She had learned to enjoy solitude guarding Lorinand’s fences, and now she was able to enjoy it fully, needing only herself and her horse for company.

Blessedly, she had seen no one on the road, but now her sensitive nostrils caught the scent of a burning fire. Her horse turned its head, inquisitively, and she told her, “I smell it too, it’s someone’s campfire. Who would be camping along Elrond’s road when he is so close to entering Imladris?”

She led Arial into the woods, just far enough that she would be hidden from the road. “Stay here,” she whispered in her ear, “Don’t leave until I tell you,” and began picking her way carefully through the thickets, walking soft-footed as only an elf might. Her hand was on the haft of her dagger, and the presence of her bow and arrows gave her comfort, though she did not in truth know if she suspected trouble.

The stranger had found a small clearing hidden within the woods. She could not see his face for his back was to her, but his long cloak was travel-stained, the grey it must once have been now almost a muddy brown. A merry little fire was crackling, just enough for some warmth and to cook the rabbit that was spitted over the coals. He seemed unaware of her, or if, by chance, he knew she was there, he said nothing. Was he waiting for her?

She stepped carefully into the clearing, not truly knowing if she wanted to disturb him. His back was still to her, so she said, carefully as not to offend him, “Old man, what are you doing in the Lord Elrond’s woods.”

He turned, and she recognized the man in her vision. “Ah, young Celebriel, I have been waiting for you, are you hungry?”

She smiled in spite of herself, then remembered her caution, “How do you know my name?” She removed her hand from her dagger, sensing that no threat was here.

“I know more about you than you may realize. Your mother has told me much about you and wished for me to join you for a short time. She knows that you may be unhappy, so she sent me to keep you company until you feel settled in. Imladris is not Lorinand, and despite what you are thinking now, she understands."

"But who are you? What is your name? In all my years in Lorien, I never saw or heard of such as you. And yet, you find me, you know who I am, you know my mother and I know nothing of you. I do not like secrets being kept from me!" She did not like to whine, but she felt frustrated, how many people that she loved had been keeping secrets from her? Were Amroth and Nimrodel among them? No, of all the elves in Middle Earth, they were perhaps the only ones who would not.

Gandalf watched her, a look of pity on his face that he tried now to hide. Galadriel had told him of her daughter, and the path she was forging for herself. "My mother called me ‘Nerwen', ‘Man Maid' when I was young, but I left behind my hoyden ways and embraced who and what I was. Celebriel is different, she excelled not only at boys' games, but she has determined that she will follow a warrior's path. This is new, for Elven women have never gone to war. I do not know if I approve, but Celeborn and I do not disapprove, for perhaps this is her destiny. But I think she will need watching over and guidance that I am afraid that the Lord Elrond might behold."

“Stay with her awhile, Mithrandir, let her know she has a friend she can trust. Her options may be more numerous than she thinks, as long as she feels she is not forbidden to pursue the one she wants. I do not think that any path is closed to her if it is of her choosing.”

"I am sorry your mother never told you of me and sorrier still that I did not make your acquaintance when you were young. Let me eat my lunch, I would hate to think of this rabbit going to waste, then we will return to Imladris together. Where is your horse?"

"In the thickets, she will bear the both of us, I think if you do not care to walk. I know I should be cautious of you, but you feel worthy, Mithrandir—or may I call you Gandalf?"

“You may call me whatever you like, young Celebriel. Your experience is limited, but I think you will find Imladris a better fit for you than you think—if only for a while.”

“If only for a short while,” she said fiercely, “I am determined to return to where I belong, I do not belong here among the High Elves, and Elrond will find it hard to stop me if I decide to leave.”


	6. Red Headed Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some observations on my story and Tolkien

I'm putting this is because of a review I got on fan fiction and it gave me food for thought.

This story is really old, and it pre-dates a lot of stuff that was released a long time after the Lord of the Ring series of books. When I wrote it, The Silmarillion hadn't even come out, but I had a book edited by Christopher Tolkien called "Unfinished Tales" of stuff his father hadn't published.

Well, later, much much later, Tolkien revealed there were five elves that had red hair. Obviously, I didn't know this, but it wouldn't have changed the way I wrote my character.

So here goes: it's a response to an anonymous review that I really wished that the writer would have left his or her name on.

 

Hmm. Technically I probably shouldn't be doing this, but I'm one of those people who will explain something I don't think another is really understanding.

For those of you who don't realize it, my story is forty-five years old, give or take a year or two. I wrote this before I even knew what fan fiction was, so there were no rules, a situation I am very fond of. As a matter of fact, I often ignore rules as a matter of policy.

"Guest", I deleted your review only because you did it anonymously so I didn't have a chance to discuss this with you. I'd love to have a conversation about this. I bear you no ill will and there are no hard feelings, of course, if you don't re-visit my story you won't know this.

I read a lot of stuff by Chris Tolkien that he wrote, well actually edited his father's stuff for Tolkien fans like me, but this is waayyyy before Peter Jackson came on the scene. In fact, when I wrote this story (ok, well, gave it a start) there were NO red-headed elves! (at least in print) Other people like me who were unknowingly writing fan fiction may have invented their own, but to my knowledge, my Celebriel was the only red-head in the elven world I knew about.

As a matter of fact, I was rather shocked when I saw red-headed elves in one of PJ's movies. I thought that this was my domain. BTW, I checked my copy of the Silmarillion and saw no mention of red hair, only black, gold, and silver. Since I'm a compulsive researcher, I keep a collection of books at hand, but, as I said, everything I own pre-dates Peter Jackson's version of the LOTR.

I'm glad that his movies sparked an interest in Middle Earth, and evidently, there's a lot of stuff out there that wasn't before, but I don't own it. I don't go to libraries for research because I always forget to return books, so I have no idea what's out there. I'm basically happy with my resources at hand.

In my LOTR universe, Celebriel is the only one with red hair, which is what I wanted her to be. I wanted a unique "one of a kind" elf, and that's what I wrote. If anyone wants to go "mano a mano" with me over this, tell me what source you're using so I can look it up for myself.

I understand "purists", I really do. I'm a bit of one myself. I enjoy historical fiction but start having problems when it steers too far from the truth. For those of you who don't like my character's hair color—well, at one point I gave her black hair, but since I preferred the red, that's what I went back to.

Now if anyone wants to argue with me over this, cool, just don't do it anonymously. Give me a way to message you so we can have a get-down, lively argument, okay? I don't often delete reviews (face it, I can use all I can get), but if I feel they're off point, or you don't leave me a way to respond to you, or if you insult me or my characters, chances are I will delete it.

Once again, "Guest", if you want to get back to me on this, I'm open!


	7. To Find an Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebriel brings Mithrandir to Imladris. She is summoned to her sister's chambers and can tell the person she has become is not what Celebrian or Elrond anticipated. Glorfindel gets a hint at what her future plans may be

Gandalf removed the rabbit from the spit and cut it carefully in half. “Are you sure I cannot tempt you?” he asked but she shook her head.

"No, the cooks fed me very well. I enjoy eating in the kitchens more than I do at Elrond's board. In the kitchen, I am not required to wear a gown."

"And behave like a lady, I am sure." At first, she scowled, then laughed and Gandalf joined her. Galadriel had warned her that it might be hard to gain Celebriel's trust, so he intended to proceed carefully. He could already sense her unhappiness and homesickness so he would do nothing to arouse her suspicions. 

Child of the Noldor, child of her mother’s ring, child of Lorinand. All of these must pull at her. And traces of the blood of Feanor ran in her veins. He remembered the stories of how Feanor had lusted after her mother, his desires only ending with his death. Would her strong will, of which he could catch a glimpse, cause her, too, to be reckless? 

What had Elrond expected of her, or had Galadriel been able to warn him that this child was an elf like no other? Had he expected another Celebrian or had he braced himself for the difficult war-like princess that now sat next to his fire and drinking his wine. 

He hid his feeling and thoughts from her as he washed the last of the rabbit down with the wine in his bag. “Come, young elf,” he said, “It is time for us to leave. You must face Master Elrond whether you will it or not. He is one of my oldest friends and, if necessary, I will put in a good word for you.”

She made a face at him, then stood. “My horse is a short ways away. Do you wish to ride with me, or will you walk?”

“I will walk,” he said firmly, “Just hold your horse to a pace I can keep up with, please. Tell me, are you allowed to ride past the borders on your own.”

“I don’t care if I am allowed to or not. I have enough sense to stay away from danger, and if I must, I can defend myself. I learned how to take care of myself from the elves of the Golden Wood, and they trusted me to use my good sense. Elrond seems to think I possess none.”

“You judge him too harshly, but you do not know him, your only memories of him date from your sister’s wedding. I understand your anger at being taken from your home, which must be hard for you, as well as the life you were happy leading.”

"I feel useless here," her answer unexpectedly harsh, "I am as well trained as any of Lord Elrond's guard. They ripped me away from what I loved doing most, serving as a watchman on Lorinand's fences. I am Amroth's heir, if anything happens to him, Lorinand is to be my responsibility. I am a leader, Gandalf, not a follower, or at least I am meant to be someday. I know how much I have to learn, but it seems that no one will take me seriously." She hung her head for a moment, "Or at least it seems that no one wants to. Amroth and Nimrodel believe in me, why does no one else?"

“If you wish to be a leader, then you must learn to be one,” Gandalf’s voice took on a stern tone, “Leaders must learn to cooperate and listen. You are willing to judge Elrond, but have you been willing to listen to him? He is aware of the danger Lorinand might face someday, and if Amroth wishes you to succeed him, he will respect it. Tell Elrond you wish to learn to be the best leader that you can in the event that Lorinand needs you." He saw the look of skepticism on her face and shook his head. "You forget, Celebriel, that you are very young, and right now you are angry and no one can blame you. Swallow your pride and accept this opportunity.”

They’d reached her horse, and she swung up on her back. “I’d like to believe you, truly I would, but I don’t think I can be happy here. I don’t like the Noldor, they have been responsible for too much grief. I know I am the daughter of my mother—and I love her very much—but I cannot accept the wrongs committed by her kin. I prefer the Silvan elves of Lorinand, that is who I am, that is where I belong.”

Gandalf sighed as he walked next to her horse. Conversation between them had ceased, if only for the moment. She saw life as black or white, right or wrong, she did not have enough experience yet to know that life was made of subtle shades of grey. She had passion and zeal as well as a sense of where she belonged. In time she could be Lorinand’s leader and defender, but thankfully that time was not now. He was not so sure, though, that sending her to Imladris had been the best decision.

When they were within sight of the house, she slid from her horse's back and sent it to the stables. She walked at Gandalf's side as if he could shield her from the anger of Elrond if need be. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it briefly, as if to say, "I understand."

Gandalf was evidently expected, for Elrond was there to greet him. The two friends clasped hands, then Elrond turned to her and said, “Your sister looks for you, Celebriel, please go to her and see what she wants.”

Celebriel bowed her head, then headed towards the house, turning her head briefly as if seeking Gandalf’s to help to intercede for her. Then, resigned, she entered the house.  


"So that is our recalcitrant young elf," he laughed since she could no longer hear him, "Tell me, my friend, is she what you expected?"

“No, I expected her mother’s daughter, but not this one. Come, let us discuss this in my study over a glass of wine.”

Elrond’s study was lit by numerous windows, giving it warmth even when the fires burned low. The walls were decorated with carvings and framed maps which could easily be removed if needed, and bookshelves contained scrolls that were stacked neatly and orderly. The study was a reflection of its owner. 

He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Gandalf. "Arwen is my only experience with daughters. She is a reflection of her mother's grace. I have no experience with hoydens and especially rebellious ones. I supposed I paid attention when Galadriel told me what to expect, but perhaps I did not listen. I certainly was not prepared for Celebriel's anger, or that she would direct it against me. I suppose I cannot blame her, though, she was very attached to Amroth’s people, and they her.”

“Have you spoken to Celebriel yet?” Gandalf took a sip of Elrond’s excellent wine.

“Not at length, but she has only just arrived. I know she is avoiding me, but that is a thing that cannot continue. I must know how she fares, her mother told me that the Enemy may be seeking a way into her mind. He has not yet reached his full strength so he may not cast his mind this far north, not yet. As a ring bearer, I must teach her what I know about resisting him when he tries to test her. Galadriel does not think he can succeed, but she must learn that she needs to be ever alert."

“I have heard that Angmar is gathering strength,” Gandalf advanced cautiously, “The Nazgul are scattered, but they have not been destroyed. Imladris may face invasion, and I think our young elf may find a way to insinuate her way into your armies.”

Elrond sighed, “Yes, I know. I will try to stop her, but she is as stubborn as Feanor was. In truth, I do not know that I can, and I cannot trust my sons to try to stop her. I fear that they will help. She defeated them in a little contest of arms, and that has made an impression, I think,” he smiled.

“Well, Galadriel has asked me to try to gain her trust. Since she has no reason to be angry at me, if I proceed slowly and carefully I may succeed. I will try to pave the way for happier relations between the two of you. I certainly think she needs you and what you have to offer. Did you know that Amroth has designated her as his heir?”

“No,” said Elrond slowly, “I do not think her mother had knowledge of this, either. If she truly wishes to rule Lorinand someday she needs knowledge of what it means to be a ruler. This then can be a good beginning. I think she has the qualities that will make her a good leader, I will teach her what she needs to know to use them.” 

 

She made her way to Celebrian's chambers, knowing there was no way she could avoid it. She found her sister surrounded by her maidens, some spinning, some weaving, and Arwen sitting and playing a lute, her sweet voice singing of a summer long lost.

Celebrian looked up. “Celebriel, where have you been? I had thought when my sister came to stay with me I would be blessed with her company. I have missed you, my child.”  


“As I have you, sister, but you must know that I have never been content to sit and spin, or listening to idle female gossip. My mother took both loom and spindle out of my hands when she realized I would not use them. I would rather spend my time in Elrond’s armories.”

“Then I expect your presence at meals, out of courtesy to me, at least. Come, Celebriel, Elrond and I are not your enemies.”

“Then is it Mother? Did she alone scheme to have me sent here? If I am to be taken from my home, I will at least spend my time as I see fit. I may show up at meals, or I may not. As far as I can tell I am a prisoner here, and I do not like it.”

“You are creating your own unhappiness, little sister. You are not a prisoner, but an honored guest. This is not a punishment, but a way to keep you safe for now.”

"Maybe I do not wish to be kept safe, but you and mother have your wish, I am here for now because I can go nowhere else. Remember, it will not always be that way. One day I will leave and make my way back home, and nothing you or anyone can do will stop me." She turned and left Celebrian's chambers, wishing fervently that she could hit something or someone. 

She ran out of the house, heedless of the stares she drew. When she stopped, she found herself outside the walls of the Gardens of Imladris and hoping she would find solitude, entered and began wandering the paths.

She found a tree with a good-sized knot, and took several steps backward and began to throw her knife, making a game of first, hitting the knot, then trying to hit the place she had before. She stepped further back and began to throw the knife harder, causing the blade to sink deeper and deeper into the tree. 

After the last toss, the knife blade landed deeper into the tree than before, and she had to struggle to pull it out. “Here, let me help,” came a familiar voice and Glorfindel was standing behind her. He pulled the knife out of the tree with ease and handed it to her.

She smiled and mumbled “thank you”, not really wishing to speak to him, yet glad of his presence.

He looked at her for a moment, then said, “I hear you are already unhappy here, and it is only your second day. Can I help?” He laid his hand gently on the back of her shoulders and led her to a bench. He removed it as they sat, giving her a look of understanding and empathy.

“I do not want to be here, I do not belong here. I want to go home, will you take me back to Lorinand, please?” Tears formed in her eyes, but he resisted the urge to wipe them away.  


"I cannot, you know this. It is too late now, anyway, we would not be able to pass through the mountains. You are the younger child, the child of your parents' old age, you have been spoiled and indulged, yet you've proven yourself worthy. You children of Finwe are stubborn and self-willed. You have not yet learned patience because you had no need to. Will it help if I remind you that this is not forever?” He smiled and held her hand briefly.

“No, it will not be forever. I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks, I must wait until I know the lay of the land, but I intend to leave someday. When I do, neither you nor Elrond or anyone else will be able to stop me.” She stood and fled the gardens, leaving Glorfindel to wonder if they would need to be vigilant, or if they even could contain her.


	8. The Moon of Lorinand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glorfindel, Gandalf, Elrond, all are discovering how self-willed and Celebriel can be. And if they do not know, she will remind them

Celebriel appeared at the mid-day meal in a dress of emerald green, bordered with gold. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a gold ribbon, and a gold belt encircled her waist. In her green and gold gown she seemed as bright as the first leaf of spring, shining among the rest of the more somberly-clad elves and men that sat at Elrond’s table.

Or so it seemed to Gandalf. Being the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel he had expected her beauty, but he had not been prepared for the surprise that had been Celebriel. She paid scant attention to her beauty and behaved unlike a lady of the Noldor, and found nothing wrong in her manner. He felt sorry for Glorfindel, loving Celebriel for herself would be easy, he was clearly in love with her but she did not or could not reciprocate.

Possibly she was not ready to know love. She was young for her people, and if Glorfindel was patient she might someday yield her heart to him. No doubt the Lord and Lady would not be ready yet for her to take a husband and leave their home. He was surprised that she had been sent to Imladris, but he knew it would be only for a good reason.

After the meal, the company adjourned to the Hall of Fire for what elves loved best, to listen to songs and poetry. She sat next to Celebrian and Arwen, and for a while seemed content, then when next he looked, he found she was gone.

He excused himself quietly and left the room. He walked over to a balcony that overlooked the gardens and saw a figure standing and gazing up at the moon. He knew by instinct who it was and made his way down to the gardens.

She spoke first, not even turning to look at him. “The moon is too small. The moon in Lorinand is lazy and fat and fills the sky with its light. Here it seems that it is no larger than a pebble, and sheds no warm light in this cold sky.” She clutched her fur-trimmed cloak more closely about herself. “Why do people in the north live so willingly in this cold? I miss the gentle warmth of Lorinand and spending the night in the trees with my companions on the borders. Even the trees here are cold and unfriendly. I want to go home.”

“Winter is not forever, young elf. It is different here, yes, but wait until it snows! It will blanket the land in sparkling white and lend it a strange beauty that the southern lands never see. And spring follows winter, and the leaves will return to the trees, and the plants and flowers will waken from their long sleep. Summer will follow and the land will be glad.”

“And then will come autumn, followed by winter, and I will still be here, not by my will but by that of others,” her tone was unexpectedly harsh, but he understood. “I am young, but I am no longer a child, even by the standards of my people. If I were not the daughter of the Lord and Lady, I would be allowed to follow my own will. Come spring, I would be able to wander the woodlands alone if I wished, but that will not please Lord Elrond or my sister.” She sighed and lowered her head, “For the first time in my life it is not acceptable for me to be who and what I am. I avoided the company of the Noldor as much as I could in Lorinand. If I ever wondered why I do no longer.”

“I have told you before, Celebriel, you must be willing to be flexible and try to find your happiness here for now. I doubt that Elrond or Celebrian or anyone else for that matter can turn you into something that you are not. The day will come when you can leave of your own accord, surely you know that. Do not look upon this as punishment, for I am sure that is not the intention. If you are to lead Lorinand someday…”

“I must know how to be a leader,” she finished for him, “I suppose, in a way, that I may find myself less constrained eventually. But Gandalf,” he noticed she did not call him “Mithrandir” as the other elves did, “I worry for Lorinand. My land is small and vulnerable, so close to Mordor though we do not speak of it. I do not know if it ever will be invaded, but I would feel better if I were there to help watch over it. What is it that we say, ‘the Enemy only sleeps’? My greatest fear is that someday he will waken.”

He put his arm on her shoulders, and she did not flinch or pull away. “Now is not the time to look too far ahead, but be always aware. Try to enjoy your present. There are not many young elves here, but there are some. Take joy in your life, be frivolous though that will not come easily to you. There are times to be serious, but meanwhile, take a rest from believing you must always have responsibilities. Find things to take advantage of and try to be happy.”

“That is easy for you to say, you have not been wrenched from your home against your will.” She turned and left him, and he could feel her anger even as she ran away.

He felt pity for her. She had chosen to grow up too fast, being a soldier had taken the place of being young. He would speak to Elrond and see what they could do together to make her time in Imladris more tolerable.

“Ah, Mithrandir, I see you have made the acquaintance of our reluctant guest.” Glorfindel came and stood by his side, “At first, I was sure that Galadriel and Celeborn had made the right decision, now I am not so sure. I know it has only been two days, but I do not think that we can keep her here if she is determined to leave. I hope she does not attempt to leave now, winter will soon set in and she will find the going hard. And she does not yet know the lay of the land, and the hazards she might face. It is not safe for her to wander here alone in the north.”

“She could learn,” said Gandalf grimly, “And there are maps aplenty on the walls that she could study and memorize. Unless her attitude softens, and she is willing to try to find peace here, I fear that she may try to run. If Elrond suspects that is the case, he must keep a careful watch on her. I can see her unhappiness, she makes no effort to hide it. And even worse is her anger, she blames everyone close to her that brought her here. It seems useless to remind her that is was only for her own safety.”

“That, I think, she does not believe, and I am afraid that I am one of those she blames,” said Glorfindel sadly, “The Noldor were concerned that she was growing too close to the wood elves. They still call her ‘Galadriel’s folly’ and wonder why a woman of such power and wisdom chose to bear a child—especially at this time. The Lord and Lady were happy to be blessed, and they gave Celebriel as much freedom as she wanted. The Noldor say she was given too much, for her demeanor did not suit such a lady of high birth. Myself, I think her parents only wanted her to be happy.”

“And now circumstances outside her threaten to take that away. There are evil things brewing, my friend. We suspect that Angmar may declare itself openly. Trouble is coming, Glorfindel, and though the enemy has not declared himself, things are at work.”

“But the Nine have not yet declared themselves, perhaps they only wait. Perhaps the One lies hidden and will stay that way—but can it work its evil even if it is not on the Enemy’s hand?” Glorfindel did not mention the Three, it was forbidden and for good reason. Those that knew realized that Celebriel had been born and conceived under the influence of Nenya, her mother’s ring. No one knew how this would affect the child born in the very last minutes of the war, but many suspected she could not have escaped the ring’s influence.

 

With Angmar soon to emerge, both Glorfindel and Gandalf knew the need to protect Celebriel would increase. She could not be induced to stay by force, Elrond, Glorfindel, and Gandalf knew this. The barrier Celebriel had put around herself would have to be broken down, and she must be made to realize that her stubborn pride could put her in danger.

And, more importantly, winter was coming, and she had no experience of it. Very few, elf or mortal, would venture far now until spring arrived. There was a certain irony in that she must be convinced that if she decided to run, she must wait until spring. She must be persuaded if she chose to be foolish, to wait for favorable weather. Gandalf shook his head, perhaps he should not have agreed to take this on. Galadriel had only hinted, perhaps deliberately, at how difficult her daughter should be. It would be easier to kill a warg than convince Celebriel Laurelin to remain in Imladris. 

Elrond knew this too, as he sat in the morning sun and waited for her to respond to his summons. Breakfast sat on a table, waiting for her arrival. He did even know if she would respond, or ignore him altogether. Perhaps he should go down to the armories and see if he could find here there. He went over to the window to try to catch a glimpse of her slender form heading across the lawn when the sound of the door opening and closing drew his attention.

She sat in a chair, facing him, clad in a tunic and leggings that had once belonged to one of his sons. “I had asked, Celebriel that you meet me clad in proper clothes, as the young lady that you are.”

“These are proper clothes, Master Elrond, and moreover are the clothes I choose to wear. If you try to dictate what garments I should be clothed in, you will find yourself fighting a losing battle—or didn’t Mother warn you?”

It was his first concession, surely to be one of many, and he knew it. She would challenge him every step of the way if he let her, but he wanted to win her, not antagonize her. She was testing him, just as he was testing her.

He sighed and shook his head. “If I were to tell you a story, Celebriel, what would you wish to here?”

“I would hear of Finrod Felagund, my mother’s brother. She always tells me that except for my colouring and my height, I resemble him, so much so that at times she would turn away from me so I would not see her tears.”

She did resemble Finrod Felagund, he had been told, but that was before his time. She was taller than many men, but she had not reached the height common to most of her kindred. It did not seem to bother her, but she found it curious, as did many others of her mother's kin. In many other ways she bore a strong resemblance to her mother's kin, but for the fact that she was smaller in height. It seemed insignificant, but it was one of man things that made her stand out. 

What had Celebrian said she should have been named? “She who created herself”. In some ways, it was as if she had taken on the circumstances of her birth. The fiery red hair which she should not have and the eyes as green as the spring leaves in Lorinand. 

“She always told me that she was destined to follow a different path,” Celebrian had told him, “And she certainly has not behaved as a young woman of our kindred should. She is like Mother in many ways, strong-willed and sure of what she wants. She is the beloved baby still and has been given her way too often. What hurts Mother most is her denouncement of the Noldor, her kin. Mother says that there is a doom on her, that her path has been laid out from birth and it will do no good if we try to deny her.”


	9. Winter Was Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebriel discovers what winter is. A group of men and women traveling are lost and the elves rescue them

Autumn was slowly fading, and Celebriel was dismayed to see how quickly winter was coming. The leaves began to fall more quickly and even in the shelters of Imladris, the leaves fell quickly from the trees. She could not help but think of how the golden clusters of leaves would still cling to the mallorn branches. The autumn in Lorien would be delightfully cool, not this cold that seemed to permeate her bones.

In the morning the eaves of Elrond’s house were rimed with frost, along with tree branches, stones, and blades of grass. By noon the frost would be gone, but each morning it appeared anew, and soon began etching delicate designs on the window panes. The horses were now blanketed, keeping them warm and the hounds had moved into the house, sleeping before the fireplaces.

Celebriel watched out the window, fascinated by the picture nature had painted, yet wishing she were home. The fire banked in the fireplace of Elrond’s study, and silver mugs held mulled wine that helped warm her. The whole of Imladris seemed to be preparing for a winter’s hibernation, for the elves were spending more time inside since the first frost.  
“Have you waited long?” Elrond came into the room and sat down. He picked up the mug and had a long drink of wine. “I am surprised that you come and see me, I had half expected that you would ignore me.”

"And I had half expected that I might, it is only that I am bored that I show up for our little meetings. After this, I will ride, then bathe and dress for the mid-day meal. After that, I will not know what to do with myself, as is usual. You and Mother took me away from all that I was accustomed to, but have given me nothing to replace it."

“We had thought to keep you out of harm’s way…” he began, but she cut him off.

“Was I in such great danger? I am aware of what was hunting me. Did Mother ever tell you I could discern her thoughts? I did not wish to, but at times it seems our minds were as one. I will concede this since I came north, the hunter no longer bothers me. My thoughts are my own and no one is seeking to discover them.

“I was born under the influence of her ring. I perceived it, I saw it shining brightly as a star in the twilight. I see Vilya on your finger and, Narya on Gandalf’s. I don’t know if I’ve been given a blessing or a curse. I would gladly relinquish this if I could, I wish I had no knowledge of your precious rings. All I’ve ever wanted to be Celebriel of Lorinand, and then one day, perhaps, Celebriel, a leader of Lorinand’s armies. Now I don’t know who I am or what I am to be.”

"That will come in time," Elrond tried to soothe her, "But you cannot reject what you are, and you should not. Whether you have been given a gift or a curse will be for you to determine, not me, not your mother. Now, if you wish to ride, you should do so. I smelt snow in the air this morning which means that riding will soon not be possible."

It was not the next day, but the next week that the snow began to fall. At first, it was just a blanket covering the ground, but soon it was reaching nearly up to the horses' hocks. The young elves dressed up warmly, Arwen joining them, and played in the snow like children, throwing snowballs and making statues of snow.

A bell began ringing, too soon for the afternoon meal. "There is someone in distress," Elladan lifted his head, “There must be travelers lost in the snow. It will be worse in the wildlands. Come, Celebriel, come with us, we will help look for them.”

“Does this happen often?” she asked as they hurried towards the house. She would not be allowed to accompany them, but the twins would manage to include her.

“Too often, I am afraid,” Elrohir said gravely, “Travelers get caught by surprise, or they underestimate the snow and find themselves lost or trapped.”

“Why are they this far east, especially during winter? Imladris seems so isolated, and close to the mountains for any travelers to be here.”

“Because there is travel between the kingdoms of the men of Westernesse. The men from Gondor come over the mountains to visit their kin in the west, or they come from Rhovanian to travel to Gondor. You truly have been isolated, aunt, I thought you knew more about the kingdoms of Men.”

“Not so much as I should, I guess. I didn’t see mortals until I came here, nor do I know much about them. I suppose I am about to learn.”

"You did know Father is called ‘Half-Elven' for a reason, don’t you?” Elladan threw a heavy cloak over her shoulders, “Here, you’re going to need this. Throw the hood over your hair and sit towards the back of the room so no one will notice you. You’re going to need to take another horse, Ariel can’t be seen well enough in the snow. They will need to see that we are coming for them.”

Preparations were being made in the armory. Pack animals were being loaded with blankets, cloaks, and warmed wine. Rooms were being prepared, warm clothes were being gathered so that they could get the lost travelers out of their wet clothes as soon as possible.

Outside Celebriel sat quietly on her horse, flanked on either side by Elladan and Elrohir. It was strange how quickly they had made friends, she thought, they treat me as an equal, not at all like they treat their sister. I will never be accepted here as I am in Lorinand, but there are three people I can count on: the twins and Glorfindel. And maybe Gandalf as a fourth, she added, whenever he is here.

Gandalf had departed just before the weather had changed. “I will be back soon, young elf,” he had told her, “I must go where I am needed, but I will be back in the spring. I will visit Lorinand, and talk to your mother and tell her you are managing the best you can. Cheer up, Celebriel, look for me after the ice melts and the trees start budding. I will be back to keep you company then.”

Gildor Inglorian, one of the chiefs of Elrond’s household, took his place at the head of the rescuers and led them into the forest. Scouts had reported a group had been separated from the main party and lost in the woods. The elves from Imladris were hampered by the snow, but their horses’ long legs were able to break it up and push through. Without their horses, it would have taken them longer, but by late in the day, the lost party had been found.

The travelers were eleven in number: five men, four women, and two children. What had they been doing, traveling in the snow like this, she thought, the men may have survived, but without the help of the elves, it might have meant death for the women children.

After they found them, the elves wrapped them in warm cloaks and fed them mulled wine. Celebriel took the children, assuring their reluctant mothers they would be all right, and putting them before her on her horse, returned to Imladris She deposited them with the women of the Elrond’s household, then headed out by moonlight to meet the returning party.   
This time the rescue was a success, but it was not always like this, Elladan told her. The travelers were fortunate that the elves had found them so quickly. The children were weakened by their ordeal but like their parents, they had survived, if only just barely.

Celebriel was angered by what she had seen. “Why did they do this, Glorfindel? They risked the lives of their women and helpless children. Why did they not remain where they were until the weather improved?”

He shook his head, “Things will not get better, Celebriel, we will have more folk seeking us out for shelter, I am afraid. Things are changing in the world outside Imladris. The unity of the northern kingdoms is slipping away, and I fear we will see infighting amongst them someday soon. The elves have hoped for peace, that the kin fighting would cease amongst men, but I fear it is not so. We saw what it did to us, and hoped that it would prove a lesson, but men are no stronger than we were. I fear you will see evil that I hoped you would not, but it cannot be helped, I am afraid.”

She hoped that he would explain what he meant, but he walked away and left her wondering. That night she had a strange dream, unlike any other she had had. She saw Arwen robed all in white holding the hand of a tall stranger, a Westroner. He was fair to look upon, and his features noble, but what she noticed most of all was his height. He seemed no ordinary man but like someone from a story she had been told of the old days of Numenor. He looked at her and smiled, and she heard the name “Estel”, which she knew meant “Hope.”

 

The snow continued, and the lost party remained in Imladris for weeks. She'd been taught the speech of men, but had never had opportunity to use it, and found herself floundering when she tried to speak to any of the men or women who they had rescued. Some of them were fluent in Sindarin, and she wondered if these were members of the House of Isildur. Whoever they were, they were friendly and courteous, and she was gradually overcoming her shyness around them.

The children, in the way of children, quickly picked up words in the elven tongue and would chatter in both. They were a novelty, these miniature human beings, and they took to her, following her around, or seeking out her company. “Narwen," they called her, the fire maid, and they would finger her hair in wonder as if it were something wonderful and magical.  
Sometimes she would watch out the windows and wonder what would have happened if she had tried to flee. She had hoped to be allowed to return to Lorinand in the spring but realized now there was little chance of that. For now, her fate seemed out of her hands. She did not know how long she would be forced to stay, and for now, it was better to talk every day with Elrond, and enjoy the warmth of the fires and the fine meals Imladris had to offer. If she was a prisoner now of winter, so be it. Spring would come, even to these northern lands. Perhaps it was only the gloom of winter that seemed to fall on her, spring would come, and with it, a new hope.


	10. To Escape Imladris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is passing and Celebriel is ready to attempt to leave Imladris. She decides to do it on the night when the elves hold a feast to celebrate the Equinox. She makes preparations and when she thinks she won't be noticed, steals up to her room to change and grab her supplies. Thinking she is safe, she finds herself confronted by Glorfindel who agrees to let her leave--but warns her he will come to look for her if she does not send him word she is safe

Winter dragged on, or so it seemed to Celebriel. More travelers came to take refuge from the winter weather in Imladris before resuming their journeys in the spring. At times Imladris seemed crowded with strangers speaking strange languages and Celebriel wondered how Elrond could find room for them all.  
But winter did not last forever, and eventually, the snow began to melt, causing the waters of the Bruinen (*the Loudwater) to swell, as undoubtedly was happening to the Celebrant in Lorinand. The Men and Women who had taken refuge in Elrond's house began to leave and continued their journeys to the west or east.

Celebriel had not wasted her time and occupied herself with studying the maps on the walls, and what she could glean from Elrond’s study. She’d made careful copies, leaving out no detail. If she could not ride out into the Wildlands, at least she could use the maps for reference. Her efforts would come in handy one day.

Even though she had the visit of Gandalf to look forward to, she continued to be unhappy in Imladris and wanted to leave—badly. The only question was, could she do it on her own?

And if she did manage to leave, where would she go? She was homesick, badly homesick, for Lorinand, but that was where she would be expected to flee, and therefore she could not go. And she knew she must seek refuge among her own kind, she had too little experience of men to seek their company. And there were many men who were allies of Elrond, and who knows? They might send her back. Wherever it was, it must be far enough away from Imladris, yet not so far that she could not make the journey on her own.

There was only one logical place: the Lasgalen (*The Greenwood, which became known as Mirkwood). It was a risk, but Thranduil was kin through her father Celeborn, and perhaps he would welcome her. She had yet to see any of the wood elves come to Imladris or emissaries received by Elrond from Thranduil. Though there was no open enmity, the Silvan elves had little love for the High Elves. Maybe Thranduil would agree to give her sanctuary and not notify either Elrond or her family in Lorinand. If she could talk him into it.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, she thought. This is a risk, but a calculated one. I’ve studied the maps and I think I can find my way, I’ve made drawings to carry with me so I know the landmarks. I know where the passes are, and so far we’ve heard no news of orcs making themselves openly known. Besides, a lone traveler draws less attention than a group. And I’m not afraid to travel on my own—well, maybe that’s not quite true, but I will have to do it someday and why not start now?

I’ve been well taught, I’ve had good teachers. Haldir would soon be sending me out on my own, so maybe now’s the time to start. My biggest danger will come from here—what if they decide to track me? If I go to the Las Galen will they follow my trail there, or will they automatically look for me on the road to Lorinand? I need to find a way to buy time and keep them off my trail, somehow, I just don't know if I can do this successfully. Why oh why did I let myself be persuaded to come here in the first place.

But when can I leave? I have to wait until the floods subside somewhat. There is a bridge over the Bruinen, and I’ll use it if I can, rather than ford the river. I can carry dried fruits and bread, and maybe a flask of miruvor. I can survive by hunting, as long as there is game to be found. I’ll need to carry oats for Ariel because outside of what new grass and plants we find, there won’t be much for her to eat.

The biggest wrench would be sending Ariel back to Imladris when she reached the mountains. It would be rough going there for a horse, and she would not subject her beloved mare to harm. She knew that Ariel could find her way back to Imladris on her own, and with minimal risk of harm. Like it or not, the last part of her journey would have to be made on foot.

When would be the best time to leave, she wondered? The days were growing longer, albeit slowly, and as they did the weather became warmer. She wanted to leave before the Solstice because in the long days and moonlit nights it would be harder for her to leave unnoticed. She had learned the ways of Imladris and knew there were secret paths that led in and out that only the elves knew, and those hidden ways she would utilize to make her escape.

The elves would hold a feast for the Equinox. Though not as important as Mid-Summer’s Eve, the days were growing longer and on the night of the Equinox, the elves would celebrate the end of winter and the coming of spring. The elves of Imladris, like those of Lorinand, loved to hold feasts and celebrate. Good food and better wine would flow freely, and all were welcome to join the celebration.

Maybe in the middle of the merrymaking, she could slip away unnoticed. She could steal away to her room, change her clothes and fetch her horse from the stables. She could lead Ariel across the bridge over the Bruinen, and then mount up and disappear into the night.

It was an ambitious plan, and she knew it. She would carry a lantern, but not light it until she was sure it could not be seen. She was not afraid to travel at night but was aware she was not familiar with the road she had chosen and would have to proceed with caution. The plan was crazy, she knew, but perhaps it was just crazy enough to succeed.

She hoped Gandalf would not appear until she was gone. He was wise, and perhaps he would be able to sense her plans. He might even tell his suspicions to Elrond and thwart her. No, she needed to be gone before he returned. She would be sorry to miss him, but it could not be helped.

Slowly, carefully, she began to make preparations. She was in and out of the kitchens and pantries often enough that no one seemed to notice she was carrying out bags of food. The dried fruits that she stole were intended to supplement the food she planned to hunt. Bread would have to be taken at the last minute, but she took two flasks of miruvor to help sustain her on the long ride. The maps had shown that several small streams ran through the forest, but she had water skins that she planned to fill from the Bruinen after she left.

Haldir might not approve of what she was doing, she thought, but he would approve of how she was going about it. The lessons he had taught her were not going to waste, she knew how to prepare for a journey, but knew full well she did not know what was at the end of it.  
She looked up at the sky, counting the days until the Equinox. The days grew longer, a welcome respite from the gloom of winter. The snow cleared and the waters of the Bruinen subsided a little, though the spring flood had not yet come to a halt. The trees began slowly to bud and soon the branches would be full of the new green leaves, leaves as green as Celebriel’s eyes.

At last, the Equinox came, and the elves of Elrond’s household, weary after the long winter’s dark, held a feast to welcome it.

Arwen and Celebriel dressed in gowns like silver tissue. Celebriel now had grown more aware of her beauty and noticed the smiles of appreciation that she and Arwen received from the many guests attending. Arwen sat with Elrond and Celebrian, but Celebriel moved amongst the crowd. She waited anxiously for the hour to grow late, so she could slip away, unnoticed and retreat to her room to change. Then she would grab her supplies and run to the stables, saddle Ariel and make her way carefully out of Imladris and to the deep woods.

And it almost worked and would have had it not been for Glorfindel. He had been drinking generously of Elrond’s wine, but elves held their liquor well. She was coming out of her room, bags and her bedroll in hand when he found her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a little thick from the wine he had drunk, “Or rather, should I ask where are you planning to go?” He took her wrist in his hand and held it tightly, she did not struggle knowing that it would do no good.”

“Please, Glorfindel, let me go. If you were ever my friend, please let me go.”

“So, the daughter of the Lord and Lady seeks to leave the shelter of her sister’s house? Where is it that you plan to go and what makes you think you can get there unhindered?”

“There are no reports of orcs about and that is the only thing I would be afraid of. I am not Arwen, I will not starve in the wilderness alone. If I fear anything it is that I will be caught and brought back here. If you try to keep me from leaving now, it will not stop me. I will try and try again until I succeed. I never wanted to come here, and I have made it plain that I do not wish to stay. Now, will you let me go, please? I want to leave before the sun comes up, and that is in a few hours.”

He let her go and stepped back. “You are making a mistake, Celebriel, you would do better to stay here. I will not give you away, but if I do not hear word soon that you are safe, I will look for you.”  
He watched as she ran swiftly down the stairs and out of the house. “Goodbye, little Nariel, until we meet again.”

The stables proved a temporary haven. She found her saddle and bridle and led Ariel from her stall. “I am sorry to wake you, my lady, but we have a long ways to travel tonight. We’re leaving this place and though you will be returning, I will not. We need to leave before anyone knows we’re gone.”  
She placed saddle and bridle on her horse, then loaded her saddlebags with her food and supplies. A few delicacies from the feast made it into the bags, one last treat that she would not enjoy again for a very long time.

She led her among the backways to the bridge over the Bruinen, then stopped to fill her water skins. Once over the bridge she swung up into the saddle and said simply, “Come on, let’s go.”

 

It was pleasant riding at night, and she was almost reluctant to see the sunrise, but it better enabled her to read the carefully-drawn maps she had brought with her. Soon, however, she found that she did not need them and relied on her memory to guide her.

She hated to do it, but she pushed her horse hard, eager to put as much distance between her and Imladris as she could. She would be looked for, but not immediately unless Glorfindel gave her away. And she hoped that they would look to the south, thinking that she would run back to Lorinand. Surely scouts would be sent in all directions, but they would concentrate on the road south, of that she was sure.

And she had hours ahead of them, at least. They would not notice that she was gone at first. Then they would search Imladris unless Elrond guessed that she had left. If they followed her tracks, they would know the direction she was heading, but not where she planned to go. She did not like the uncertainty of her situation, but she would handle it as best she could.

She did not stop until late that night. She unloaded her bedroll and gave Ariel her nosebag. The meal she ate was quick, but in truth, she was too tired to be very hungry. She did not build a fire, but wrapped herself up in her blankets and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She woke up stiff, unaccustomed now to sleeping on the ground. She fed Ariel, then searched about for some dry wood to start a fire. It took some effort, but soon the flames were crackling and she could warm her hands over the fire.

She ate sparingly, remembering the wood elves lesson. Make your food last as long as you can, and whenever possible hunt for it. There wasn’t much yet, but she had seen rabbits and squirrels, and if she could find a stream, there would be fish to catch. Going through the High Pass would be a challenge, but it would be a trip of one or two days at the most.

She would have to send Ariel back after she went through the pass. It would be like losing a friend but the journey through the Lasgalen would have to be made on foot. There was no need to attract attention for she was sure that the wood elves would find her eventually.

And what then? She did not know. Thranduil could send her back to Imladris if he chose. The elves of the Greenwood were independent, and she was hoping that she could make a case for being allowed to stay. She would leave and return to Lorinand as soon as it was possible. She was not accustomed to throwing herself on someone’s mercy, but that was just what she must do.


	11. The Forest Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebriel abandons her horse and proceeds on foot down the Old Forest Road through the Greenwood, hoping that she will be found for she has no idea where Thranduil's hall lies. Legolas and 3 companions find her and bring her to the Elven King

The journey through the High Pass was uneventful, but uncomfortable, she did not like mountain passes. The mountains she did not mind, but the passes through them made her feel vulnerable. There had been no sign of orcs for centuries, but the pass seemed a perfect place for an ambush. For the two days she spent traversing it, she spoke not a word, not even to Ariel. Every noise, every falling rock, every gust of wind startled her, and she was grateful when she came out the other side.

She allowed herself the luxury of a large campfire the night after she emerged. By the light of the fire she studied the maps she had made, and now realized what a task she had taken on to the find the wood elves.

There was no clear path to Thranduil’s stronghold, she would have to rely on luck. This was not her forest, she did not know the paths and the byways that his people traveled. The food she had brought would not last long, but spring was deepening, and she had been taught by good teachers how to provide for herself.

It was the thought of how she would be received that made her nervous. She was a trespasser in a land where she did not belong, though she could claim kinship through her father. The elves of Lorinand did not welcome strangers and she understood the risk of asking to be granted access to Thranduil’s kingdom. And her mother was Noldor, and she knew that there were ill feelings between the silvan elves and the high elves over the losses they had suffered in the Great War.

She threw more wood on the fire. “I’m advertising to one and all that I’m here with this, but this is the first real fire I’ve had since I left Imladris. If the wood elves want to find me, they will, there’s no one else who lives here. I wish they would find me, I want to sleep in a real bed and bathe and change clothes.”

The next day she allowed herself the luxury of rising late. She gave Ariel the last of her oats then proceeded to ride to the eaves of the Greenwood. The trees were tall and stately, but had an air of menace even though they were beginning to leaf out.

She brought Ariel to a halt, then slid out of the saddle, and removed the last of her food from the saddlebags. She put things into a pack she had brought thinking, I need few clothes, just enough to get me by. And Ariel? I hate to let you go but you can find your way back to Imladris, and there are grass and shoots for you to eat, so you should not starve. It won’t take long for you to return. I wish I could keep you with me, but there’s no way I can.

She shed a few tears for the loss of her beloved horse, a gift from Glorfindel, but nothing else. Those she cared for had betrayed her, all of them. Her last encounter with Glorfindel made her wonder if she had been no more than a pawn for an elven marriage. She was not interested in being a Noldor maiden married into one of the noble houses, even if she counted Glorfindel a dear friend. In fact, she was not interested in being married at all. She was returning to the Golden Woods and her life there—she would find a way somehow.

Elrond and Celebrian had expected the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, and that was who had arrived, but not the daughter they’d envisioned. They did not expect an elf maid who practiced her archery for three hours every day and refused to behave as her station dictated, wearing fine gowns and behaving like a woman of her rank. Well, that was too bad. She was who she was, and remained true to herself. Maybe life in the Greenwood would prove more palatable. All she knew was that she could remain in Imladris no longer.

She removed the saddle and bridle from Ariel’s back, and carried them into the bushes, far from the path she had been following. She took the mare’s finely sculpted head in her hands and said, “You have to go back to Imladris, and you mustn’t let them know where I am. You’ll find food more easily than I will, and you won’t starve. Go back to your comfortable stall, and your stable mates. I hate to let you go, but where I am going, you can’t follow. I’ll be back someday, I promise, but it will be on my terms. May the blessings of Varda follow and protect you.”

The mare looked at her once, then turned and headed back down the path to Imladris. She watched her go and wiped the tears from her eyes, thinking, my last true friend.

The pass had led her to the entrance of the Forest Road, and she decided to take it. Her years in Lorinand had taught her that an elven wood was not a place to wander in. She knew little of Thranduil, but all the same, there could be a spell on the wood that confused travelers. If she were lucky, she might meet someone, but she would rather be alone if the choice was left to her.

And alone she was. She did not know what she would find when she came out of the forest. The lair of the wood elves was a little north of the road, but she dared not wander in the woods alone. As the days passed she began to wonder if her presence was known. In Lorinand it would be and scouts would be sent out to discover just who the intruders were.

She felt their presence first, then she began to hear the voices, voices speaking in an elven tongue. The language she recognized, but somehow the words could not be understood, as if they were deliberately being garbled so she would not understand. But it was not the deep threatening voice in her innermost thoughts that she had come to dread. She wanted to try to call to them, to invite them to come to her, but she knew better. There was nothing she could do but to keep following the road and wait for them to come to her, which she knew now might be soon.

One day she did not get her start until late in the morning. After she finished her breakfast, she scattered the remains of her fire and shouldered her pack. She had not heard the voices for a day or two, perhaps they had lost interest in or, or maybe they were playing with her. It did not matter now, she knew what she had to do, and began to walk, knowing she was reaching the end of the road and wondering what she would do if none of Thranduil’s people approached her.

She began to hum to herself as she walked along. The song was one that Nimrodel had taught her, but for some reasons this day the words eluded her, so she continued to hum and walk. She looked up at the trees and said in the silvan tongue, “I am homesick for Lorinand. The spring is coming and soon the mallorn blossoms will be opening. These woods feel oppressive as if they were closing in on me. I should like to see some sunlight again."

“That is not a very nice thing to say about someone’s home, even if you are homesick.”

Four elves stood in her path, holding their bows, though they had not put arrows to or drawn them. She breathed a sigh of relief, though quietly. She had been found, at last, and now she must present her case as best she could.

They were tall and golden-haired, dressed in green and brown. There was a familiarity about them, though, dress them in white and grey and they could easily belong in the golden woods. Was the one who had spoken to her their leader? Well, she would find out.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in the heart of the Greenwood, the realm of the Lord Thranduil? Come, speak, I am waiting.” His voice was stern and unfriendly. It was the voice she would have used had she found him wandering under Lorinand’s eaves.

“My name is Celebriel,” she said slowly, deciding to reveal her name, but not her parentage. Maybe they would know who she was, but maybe not. Red hair was not common among elves, but she knew she was not the only redhead amongst the Noldor. “My home is in the south, and I was visiting my sister in Imladris for a time. Now, I am on my way home, but I wished to visit the Greenwood, I believe I have kin here I have never met.” That much was true at least.

The leader put his hand on her face and tilted it up. “You may have kin here,” he said, “But you also have kindred amongst the Noldor if you were visiting Elrond’s house. Who are you really, Celebriel?”

She drew a deep breath, “I am kin to Thranduil through my father Celeborn of Doriath. My mother is Galadriel, and my parents are residing in Lorinand for the time being. I was visiting my sister, Celebrian, wife to Elrond Half-Elven. I left Imladris and decided to journey here. Surely I present no threat to the Thranduil or his people—an army of one is not very effective.” It was more than she had wanted to reveal, but the truth might serve her better.

He dropped his hand and smiled at her. “Well, if you are telling me the truth, we are distant kindred. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. News of you has reached us from Imladris—it seems you fled rather than simply leaving.”

“And if I did, what of it? I am no longer considered a child, and the running of my life should be my own. I was unhappy in Imladris, I have come here to seek sanctuary with your father. If you try to force me to return, I will run away again, I think I have can do it if need be.” She locked eyes with Legolas to let him know she meant every word she said.

“Well, that will be up to my father. We will take you to him, and you may judge if our halls are as fair as your beloved Lorinand. If you promise to come quietly, and not attempt to run away, you may walk freely with us. If not, we will have to bind your hands and blindfold you.

“I will not try to run,” she said with quiet dignity, “And if you must watch me I will not object. I have come to seek shelter with you, not cause trouble.”

“That is good, because I don’t want trouble from you. We will go now if you are ready. We won’t be following the Forest Road, there are paths we know that follow a more direct route to my father’s halls. Keep up with us, if you can.”

“Oh, I can,” she muttered under her breath. For reasons she did not understand she felt happy. Maybe it was speaking in the language she had grown up with, maybe it was the feeling that at last, she was amongst her own kind. In the long run, it did not matter.

As they went deeper into the Greenwood, the less apprehensive she felt. The trees no longer felt menacing and she began to appreciate their beauty. She wondered if Legolas thought it strange that she kept looking around her in wonder. This wood did not resemble the forest that surrounded Elrond’s house any more than it resembled some trees that grew in Lorinand. This was the Greenwood, and it was just as it should be.

They marched until dusk, skipping the mid-day meal and drinking only out of a flask that contained a liquid, not unlike the miruvor of Imladris. If Legolas was surprised that she had kept up with him and his comrades he did not mention it. Some of the elves had killed rabbits and she helped them build a fire and cook them. This, along with some bread and wine, made up their evening meal.

They rested a few hours then continued their journey. “We are close to my home,” he told her, “It is still a ways from here, but we should reach there after midnight. I am sorry that you let your horse go, but do not worry, she will return safely to her home.”

She smiled at him, grateful for his words. The wood elves seemed to be warming to her, though they kept a careful distance. I will stay with them, she told herself, I will persuade Thranduil to let me remain with them until I decide to return to Lorinand. I won’t go back to Imladris, I cannot be happy there. I wish to remain with these elves for they are my people, my kin.

 

It was just short of midnight when they halted. “Where are we, what are we doing here?” she asked, “What is this place?” For it seemed like nowhere at all but Legolas smiled.

“Watch,” he commanded and the earth suddenly opened up, revealing stone steps that led down to an entranceway. He took her arm and guided her down, and she saw two sentries guarding an entrance to a hallway of carven stone.

“I hear that the Galadhrim live in houses in the treetops, but here we live as the Eldar did of old, in halls carved underground. When we wish, we leave the gates open, but for safety’s sake they are most often shut, as you saw.”

“Is this the only entrance?” she asked, hoping to learn more.

“There are secret ways which a few of us know. We trade with the Lake Men and the town of Dale so we have exits from the cellars that open onto the river. Come now, Father is waiting for us.”

He led her down hallways of intricately carved stone, set with amethyst, carnelian, opal, and other semi-precious gems. Light emanated from the gems, and instead of the hallways seeming gloomy, they were filled with a soft light. Celebriel looked around her, and gently touched one of the lights, expecting it to be hot, but found it was comfortably warm to the touch.

Her mother had told her of the elf cities of old, how some had been situated in caves, while others like Thranduil’s city had been situated underground. None of them had escaped destruction from the armies of Morgoth, but the memories of what they must have been liked lived on in the halls of Thranduil’s city.

The elves they passed as they went on their way seemed familiar, too, tall, with golden hair and grey eyes. Were it not for the unfamiliarity of her situation she might have felt at home, for she heard them speaking in the familiar silvan tongue that she had missed so much while in Elrond’s house. She no longer felt like one of the Noldor, but she knew she could feel utterly at home here if given the chance.

, At last, they arrived in a great hall, and seated at the end in front of a great stone fireplace, sat an elf on a carved wooden throne. He reminded her a little of her father Celeborn. He was tall, with silvery blond hair, and wore a circlet of mithril, wrought to resemble the spring flowers that soon would be waking from their long winter’s sleep.

He stood to greet her, and she knew who it was, so she knelt down on one knee before him. He took her hand and raised her up. “Welcome, Celebriel of Lorinand, daughter of Celeborn of Doriath, I am Thranduil.”


	12. Legolas and Thranduil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conniving and scheming Legolas and Thranduil--yes, why not? Thranduil seeks to find out why Celebriel left Imladris, while deciding whether or not to send her back. Legolas can tell his father is up to something, but what? Meanwhile, Celebriel is assured that she can remain in the Greenwood for the time being--but Thranduil is being neither encouraging or discouraging. When she at least retires and Thranduil dismisses his court, he puts a proposition to Legolas, who does not know whether he will approve or disapprove

Thranduil smiled to himself, pleased at the impression he seemed to have made on Celebriel. He ordered chairs brought for her and his son and ordered wine be served to the weary travelers.

He studied her carefully, noting that she seemed a little tired and thin but her ordeal—if it could be called that—had barely affected her. He tried to probe her mind, but discovered he could not, she had somehow learned to prevent others from seeking out her thoughts.

“Now, Celebriel,” he said, sounding his most benevolent, “What is it that I can do for you? Why have you left Imladris and sought out my kingdom in the Greenwood?”

Her answer came quicker than he supposed, “I wish to take refuge here until such time as I return to Lorinand. I do not how long that will be but I do not wish to impose upon your hospitality any more than is necessary. And I would make myself useful to you, if I can, I have been well trained by the elves of Lorinand and was amongst those who kept watch upon its fences. I cannot abide idleness, my lord, I am not happy unless I am making myself useful.”

“Come, come, Celebriel,” Thranduil said, “You must not be so formal. We are kindred, so formalities are not necessary. You need not call me ‘my lord’, for your rank is at least equal to mine. You may call me ‘Thranduil’, or even ‘Uncle’ if you wish. We are family here, my child, and you must now consider yourself a member.”

Legolas stared at his father, amazed. Thranduil was shrewd and clever, he had learned to appreciate the workings of his father’s mind, and wondered now what he was up to. It was clear that he intended to keep the girl here for as long as he could, but why? Celebriel wished to return to the Golden Wood as soon as she could. Spring was coming and soon she could make her way to Lorinand in relative safety. Did his father intend to provide an escort for her so that she could make her journey in safety?

Thranduil now tried a different tactic, for Celebriel was not responding to his overtures, or so it seemed. “Can you tell me why you left the safety of Imladris to seek such a dangerous journey on your own? Was Lord Elrond aware that you had left?”

She looked up, startled, and he realized he was close to the truth. The girl had left Imladris on her own, telling no one. He was sure they were searching for her, but most likely the search was concentrated on the road to Lorinand. No doubt there would be a representative from Imladris appearing soon, but he wanted to know how he should handle this. Should he hand the girl over to them, or give her shelter here? 

Her green eyes met his grey ones, no guile in them. "I was not, I am not, happy among the Noldor, it does not matter that they are my kin. I am the daughter of Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, this is true, but I was raised amongst the wood elves of Lorinand. I am more comfortable speaking the Silvan tongues than I am Sindarin, though I have been taught both it and Quenya. The Noldor have never been welcome by the elves of Lorinand, but they consider me one of their own."

“Right now I cannot risk the journey back there, that is the first place that Elrond will have them look for me. As you said, I am sure that someone from Imladris will be arriving here soon, but I beg you, please do not betray my presence. If you will not shelter me here, then I must leave. I can live in the wilderness if I have to, I have been well taught and I know how to survive.”

“But I would ask you to please let me stay here, at least long enough for them to give up the search for me. Do not send me back to Imladris, please. I am dreadfully unhappy there. I do not live up to the standards the Noldor expect from me, and I do not wish to. I am simply myself and who I am. I am not a princess, Uncle, I am a soldier, I cannot idly sit and spin and weave, that would be the death of me.”

She held up her hands, bronzed from many hours in the sun. "See these hands? They do not know or want to know, how to use a spindle, but they can use a bow to deadly accuracy. I have also been taught to use a sword," she pulled her sword out of its scabbard and held it up so the gems in the hilts could catch the light, then replaced it. "I would rather use bow and arrow to fight, but this sword is for my protection when my bow cannot help me. I could be useful to you, I am woodwise and taught by a stern master."

“I must think about this,” said Thranduil craftily, “But rest assured, you are safe here. I must decide what is the wisest course of action.”

“What course of action can you decide for me?” she cried, “I am no longer considered a child among our people. Were I not the daughter of the Lord and the Lady, no one would care what I do. Do I not deserve the right to decide my own fate? Does the fact that I am a woman give you the right to decide for me? “

“Amroth of Lorinand has made me his heir, did you know that? He trusts me, he believes in my capabilities. If he ever departs over the Sea, the rule of Lorinand falls to me. I have earned his trust and respect, what will it take to earn yours?”

Thranduil sat back in his chair. This was an interesting turn of events. Long ago, the Old Forest, the Greenwood, and Fangorn had all been one. The encroachment of men and the many wars had separated it into the different realms. Lorinand lay close to the southern edge of the Greenwood, not close but not inconveniently far.

This new knowledge opened up many possibilities in his eyes. Lorinand and the Greenwood were close once, there was no reason why they should not be again.

He smiled benevolently at Celebriel. “There is no reason to fret, my child. You have had a long journey and you are tired. Go, we’ve prepared a chamber for you. In the morning, after a good night’s rest, things will not seem so hopeless. I do have your best interests at heart, trust me.”

He watched as Celebriel was led away, then dismissed all others except his son. “We must talk now,” he told him, and Legolas wondered what his father was up to.”

 

Father and son were alone at last. Thranduil pointed to a chair, and Legolas sat. He watched as his father poured two glasses of wine before seating himself in front of the fire.  
“Well, what you think of our guest?” he asked as he handed him a glass and Legolas wondered where he was going with this.

“Well, she’s obviously beautiful, but she’s also reckless and stubborn. I’d have to add brave and intelligent, too. That was quite a journey she was attempting on her own, and I’m surprised that she made it to our borders.”

“How did she seem when you found her?” Thranduil’s shrewd eyes were on him.

Legolas took a sip of wine before he answered. “A little tired, perhaps, but she seemed relieved, not frightened,” he added.

“Why relieved?” his father asked him.

“I think she was glad that we had found her, and that her journey would soon be at an end. She did not seem worried, or frightened, just relieved. I am surprised that she would attempt such a journey, but she seemed undaunted by what she had taken on. She strikes me as being self-assured as if she knew what she would face and was not afraid," he smiled, remembering the moment when he found her.

Thranduil seemed to consider this before replying, “She is very intelligent, my son, her mother is Galadriel of the Noldor. She has inherited her mother’s beauty, as well as her wit. I am surprised that Elrond did not send out a search party to the north towards our kingdom, as well as the south. I suppose he expected her to try to run to Lorinand, but to concentrate all his efforts there was a mistake. She could have run to Lindon or to the Havens, as well.”

“Well, Father, now that she is here, what will you do? Will you send her back to Imladris, which I am sure the Lord Elrond would appreciate, or what?”

Thranduil looked at Legolas as if attempting to read his thoughts. "Tell me, son, why have you never married? I know you are young, but not too young to take a wife.”  
“I suppose it is because I have never given it serious thought. Perhaps I have not yet found a woman I think would suit me.” If Legolas was surprised by what he was hearing he tried not to show it.

“Tell me, do you think our guest might ‘suit’ you? Just think, we would be uniting ourselves with the greatest Elven families in Middle Earth. We would have connections with both Lorinand and Imladris. One day Galadriel will depart over the sea, Elrond also if he wishes to remain with the First Born. I have heard rumors that Amroth has made her his heir for there will be no children born between him and Nimrodel while they stay in Middle Earth.”

“Father,” Legolas said, “How do you expect me to accomplish this? She is very young, I am sure she is giving no thought to marriage yet. And her parents may have someone in mind.”

Thranduil put a hand on his shoulder, “If that was what her parents had in mind, and they might have, could that have been why she left Imladris? Surely she was fleeing for a reason. Perhaps if you are agreeable, you might persuade her. You must woo her gently, do not push your suit or you’ll lose her. She is a bright jewel, my son, ripe for the plucking. Win her, and I do not think you will regret it.”

Legolas drained his glass and got up from his chair. "I will have to think about this Father," he said and left the room.

Thranduil smiled as he watched him go. He had seen the look in his son’s eyes as he stared at the elf maid. He would not push, he had merely planted a seed. Legolas would be a fool to let this girl go, and he knew it. All it would take would be gentle encouragement, and the matter would be accomplished. The only complication would be the girl.

It was an interesting gambit that his father was proposing, Legolas thought. He had intentions of marrying someday but was in no hurry. Celebriel might be a prize worth achieving, but he did not want to force her. It would be an advantageous alliance, his father was eager to expand his influence, and a marriage with the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel would certainly help further it.

What kind of girl fled into the woods on her own? Was his father right, had she been fleeing Imladris? If so, she must have been confident that she would be successful. And had counted on being found by the wood elves to help her find her way into his father’s kingdom. He smiled to himself, his father was right, she certainly was a jewel and would certainly shine among the women in the forest kingdom.


	13. Too Woo a Warrior Elven Maid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil is scheming to have Celebriel marry Legolas and Elrond and Glorfindel are scheming to persuade her to return to Imladris

The departure of Celebriel had thrown Imladris into an uproar. Thinking that she would attempt to return to Lorinand, Elrond had sent scouts to the south to apprehend her. His efforts had been in vain, for the search party had found nothing. Her horse had come back, minus saddle and bridle, but of her mistress, there was no sign.

Celebrian was torn between anger and worry. She had not expected that Celebriel would attempt such a thing and wondered if her sister could fend for herself in the wild. She had left with little besides her bow and arrows, a few clothes and some food.

Elrond tried to soothe her, “Glorfindel tells me she is well-trained to live in the wild, my lady, she had good teachers in Lorinand. She helped hunt game and cook on the trip north, I do not doubt that she can fend for herself.

Mithrandir arrived and discovered that Celebriel had taken flight. It did not surprise him, and he wondered why Elrond had not taken precautions to prevent her. Had he looked more closely, her unhappiness would not have been hard to see and perhaps a way could have been found to prevent this.

He, Elrond, Glorfindel, and Gildor Inglorian were sitting around a table in Elrond’s study, debating what course of action they should take. No one seemed to be in agreement on what to do, so sure they had been that she would be apprehended on the way south.

“Have you sent any men north to see if she took refuge with Thranduil?” Mithrandir asked. “Perhaps if she suspected that you would pursue her if she headed south, she decided that the best course of action would be to seek refuge in the Greenwood.”

“Would Thranduil give her shelter?” Gildor asked, “After all he has no ties to her, does he?”

“They are kin through her father Celeborn of Doriath,” said Elrond, “I sent a messenger to him to tell him she was missing. I made a mistake, I did not suspect that she would travel to the north so sure was I that she would attempt to return to Lorinand. I concentrated my efforts in the wrong direction and now she has slipped through our fingers.”

“Well, what is to be done?” asked Gildor, “We have found no trace of her to the south, it is if she has vanished.”

“I can go to Thranduil and see if she is there,” volunteered Glorfindel, “Keep in mind that if he has given her shelter we cannot force her to leave. She has reached the age of her majority and is free to make her own choices, as long as they are not rash ones. Perhaps she is lost in the wilderness, though I do not believe that that is the case. If she is there I will ask her to come back, but that is all I can do.”

“Mithrandir, what do you think?” asked Elrond.

“I think Glorfindel’s course of action is the best. She has known him since childhood, she may be more inclined to listen to him. If she decides she wishes to stay with Thranduil, I think we must honor her wishes. She will be less than amenable if we try to force her. Leave her to herself and I think she may decide to return—at some point.”

“My wife would not be pleased to hear that, she is angry that I have let Celebriel slip through our fingers. She is also angry that Celebriel has acted so rashly and possibly put herself in harm's way. We had nothing but good intentions when we brought her here, but perhaps we should have taken into account that she would take matters into her own hands. Neither Celebrian nor I am truly surprised at this." Elrond sighed and pushed himself away from the table.

 

Thranduil had not yet given his word that he would give her shelter in the Greenwood, but Celebriel felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. For the first time since leaving Lorinand, she felt a sense of freedom.

The day after her arrival she had bathed and dressed in a green velvet dress Thranduil had given her. Legolas had given her a knowing smile when he saw her, and she could not help smiling back. Thranduil was kind to her and Legolas was friendly, and the informality of the elf-king’s court was a welcome break from the Noldor in Imladris.

As he watched her Legolas thought it might not be so hard to comply with his father’s wishes. If he agreed to marry Celebriel, it would certainly not be a marriage of love, but he believed he could genuinely like her. She had a ready smile and high spirits and had proven that she was tough and could take care of herself which had surprised him.

Who could not help but admire her, he thought? And the fact that she was heartbreakingly beautiful did not hurt. If he could persuade her to marry him, he was sure he would not regret it. She would be more than a wife, she would be an equal partner.

He was surprised that his father did not want her for himself, but Thranduil was wise and he no doubt was sure that she would find his son a more desirable match. He had placed no urgency on Legolas's accompanying his goal, though the sooner it was accomplished the better. His father was right, she must not feel that she was being coerced, or hurried. Trying to force her hand would do no good—she might decide to run back to Lorinand.

The elves had finished the evening meal, and the tables had been removed for the dancing that would follow. Legolas watched as she danced with first one partner, then another. The dances were similar, if not the same, as those in the Golden Wood and she knew the steps to all. Her unbound hair flew around her shoulders as she dipped and swirled, and presented a very appealing picture.

“Go dance with her,” Thranduil whispered to him as the dance ended, and Legolas went and took the place of the elf she had been dancing with.

“May I?” he said to her and took her hands as the harp began to play. The dancers circled the room and Legolas spun her gently around, catching her eyes and smiling. She smiled back, seeming utterly at ease.

“Tell me, my lady,” he said, “Are you happy here? Has my father made you feel welcome?”

"Yes," she answered, "Very much so. The Greenwood is beautiful and shows the signs of the coming spring. Alas, that I cannot be in Lorinand! Soon the mallorns will blossom as the first leaves of spring burst forth. I miss wandering beneath the golden bows, there is nothing so beautiful as Lorinand in springtime."

“But there are other types of beauty that may be found in other places,” he replied to her, “Soon the woods here will be alive with wildflowers and the trees full of young green leaves. If you are still here,” this he said carefully, not wanting to insinuate that would make her panic, “I will take you to the town of Dale in the spring. It is a beautiful place to pass the time in. I think you would like it.”

“Perhaps, if I am still here,” she said coyly, “I have only lately realized how small my world has been, and how little I have seen of it. I studied the maps in Elrond’s house and have wondered if I might travel to places like the kingdom of Gondor someday.” She shook her head and lowered her eyes, “I am wondering if it will be safe for too much longer, I heard talk of things that I hope do not come to pass although I fear they might.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, concerned, he knew as well as his father did that there were rumors of evil things starting to stir in the north.

“Elrond fears that something might come from the Ered Lithuin, an evil or worse. The northern kingdoms of men have not been secure due to all the fighting amongst themselves. Something is telling me I should not stay away from Lorinand for too long, I think Amroth may need me.”

"But for now you are safe here," Legolas assured her, "We are well guarded here, and it will be hard for any enemy to find its way here."

“That’s what my kin in Beleriand thought and now all the great elf kingdoms are gone. Sauron was able to fool and deceive Celebrimbor, and now Eregion is no more. Lorinand is isolated and vulnerable, who knows what threats might await my beloved land? I will tarry here for a while if your father allows it, but I know I will be needed there someday, it is only a matter of time.”

“Then why not stay here where you are safe?” said Legolas and bowed to her as the dance finished and left.

He rejoined his father as he sat on his throne in front of the fire. He took a glass of wine from a servant and stared pensively at the flames.

“Well?” said Thranduil, “What did you learn?”

“She will never stay here, she is determined to return to Lorinand,” Legolas replied, “And I do not think anyone can persuade her differently.”

“Then you must try harder,” Thranduil told him, “I am determined to have her stay here. She does not wish to return to Lorinand yet, so you have time. Do your best, convince her that it is in her best interest to remain here. Imladris will be looking for her, make her see that she can find refuge here. If she leaves, she will be forced to return to Elrond and it is clear that that is not what she wants. The longer she stays, the easier it will be to convince her to remain.”

 

Glorfindel tightened the cinch of Asfaloth's saddle. At first, hopeful that he would succeed, now he was doubting the wisdom of his mission. If Thranduil was allowing Celebriel refuge in the Greenwood, there would be no hope of budging her. All along she had said that she intended to leave Imladris and it looked like she had made good on her word.  
The four elves that Elrond was sending with him rode up and joined him. Though few from Elrond’s house made the trip to the Greenwood, the way was well established with the only true difficulty of the trip going through the High Pass, which was kept open, save in winter.

“What am I going to say to her?” he asked himself, again, “Come home to the place where you are so unhappy? Come home, knowing you will only leave again?" They had all been so sure that they could convince her to remain, knowing full well they were depriving her of a life that suited her in a place she loved so well. True, she had adapted herself to the lifestyle of the Silvan elves which had alarmed her parents and the rest of the Noldor. She was, after all, high born and of the kindred of Finwe.

Elrond came to him, bearing a packet that was to be given to Thranduil. “Why are you so glum, my friend?” he asked, “Surely this will be a pleasant trip.”

“A pointless one, old friend,” he replied, “We should have left her in Lorinand, at least now in the Greenwood she will be well protected—if she is indeed there.”

"She is," said Elrond, "I have had word. I do not expect her to be convinced to come home, but at least we will know that she is well. I think it will be to her benefit to be away for a while. The Lord and Lady are thinking about coming to Imladris if that is the case she may be more willing to return in the future. And yes, we made a mistake bringing her here, but it was with good intentions. Maybe fate is playing itself out and things are exactly as they were meant to be."

“Perhaps,” answered Glorfindel, more curtly than he intended. As he and his company began to ride out he rehearsed the words he planned to say to her: “Celebriel, I have come to take you home.”


	14. Meeting in the Greenwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebriel's worst fears come true when Glorfindel arrives from Imladris, intending to take her home. Legolas lets him know in no uncertain terms that whether Celebriel leaves or stays in the Greenwood will be up to her. A kiss from Legolas makes the virginal Celebriel panic

It was early in the year, but the elves of the Greenwood were hunting deer for Thranduil’s table. The deer were still lean from the deprivations of winter, but some of the young stags had fared better than the others and possessed sufficient meat on their haunches to provide a suitable meal. 

The hounds ran ahead, baying, and the elves followed on foot, laughing and calling as they went along. A hunt, after a long winter’s wait, was a cause for celebration. A young buck had been separated from his companions, and the hounds were close on his heels. Celebriel nocked an arrow and let it fly, finding with satisfaction that she had hit the exact point on the back of his neck that brought him down. Legolas reached the deer before her and cut its throat, and soon it lay still on the ground.

He felt the taut muscles of her harm, “You are a good shot, perhaps even as good as me. Who taught you how to use a bow with such skill?”

“Haldir, of the army of the Golden Wood,” she replied, “He used to make me practice until my arm was sore, but now I’m glad he did. I have tried to practice every day since I left Lorinand, I do not wish for my skills to wither away from lack of use.”

“Then you shall practice with me, perhaps not every day, but I promise it will be often. I trust he also taught you to use a sword?”

“Yes, but he was not the first,” she said dreamily, “Glorfindel of Elrond’s house taught me when I went with Celebrian for her marriage. I prefer the bow because you do not need to be close to your target, but a sword comes in handy when you run out of arrows.”

"I imagine it does," he laughed, "But for myself, I prefer a knife. Tell me, would it surprise you to learn that some women in the Greenwood, though not many, fight alongside the men?" He smiled at the look on her face, "Yes," he said, "It's true. Not many choose to, but it is not forbidden here." No wonder you were so unhappy in Imladris, he thought, not to be able to follow your passion.

She lowered her head and said, "The Noldor do not allow the women to fight, and I do not know why. We can be killed by the sword so why are we not taught how to defend ourselves with one? Amroth encouraged me to learn all I could. My parents never did but knew it was hopeless to try to stop me if I was determined. I knew my cause was hopeless, so I took refuge with the army, or with Amroth and Nimrodel. My mother would chastise me for not spending time with them, but I didn’t care.” 

And would you really have given me Finrod’s sword, Mother, or was that only another lie?

Legolas took her hand and squeezed it. “I am sorry that it was so hard for you, but perhaps you do not give your parents enough credit. They always want what’s best for you, but it takes time for any parent to understand when a beloved child’s aspirations prove to be different from what they had hoped. But be of good cheer! You are here now, and no one will try to hinder you from following what you believe is your true path!”

She looked at him, tears in her eyes, and smiled. What did those tears mean, he thought, does she regret that fought her parents so, or that she chose to leave Imladris so quickly, or what? She is not so easy to read on one hand, but on the other, she makes it so clear what she wants. She is still young, and her future is open and surely not yet determined. I think Father may be right, she will find our home a welcome refuge and may for a time not be so eager to leave.

 

The Elves sat on the ground and drank red wine as the stewards dressed the deer, preparing to bring it back to Thranduil's kitchens. The entrails had been removed and given to hounds who were now greedily devouring them. But suddenly, one stopped and lifted his head, listening. He began to howl and soon the others had abandoned their treat and were howling in a chorus with them.

“Someone is here,” said Legolas and stood. Celebriel followed him and he put his arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly. Who is it, I wonder, thought Celebriel, and soon she could hear the familiar sound of silver bells on a saddle, a sound that she knew well.

The hounds master hushed his hounds, and they stood obediently, their hackles still risen but now they were quiet. Glorfindel rode into the clearing with his four companions and they brought their horses to a halt, waiting.

"I am Glorfindel of Imladris," he said as a courtesy and waited for Legolas to acknowledge him.

Legolas nodded his head slightly in recognition. “You are far from home, what brings you to Thranduil’s halls? We have not received an emissary from Elrond for a long time.”  
“I have come to bring the Lady Celebriel home, at the request of Lord Elrond and her sister Celebrian.”

Celebriel gently disengaged herself from Legolas' arm. "Then you have made your trip in vain, Glorfindel, for I do not wish to return. I am of age if I wish to remain here that is my prerogative. Elrond and my sister have no say in what I do." 

Glorfindel knelt before her, “It is the wish of the Lord and Lady that you return. Surely you do not wish to disobey them.”

But I do, she thought, if Thranduil permits, I intend to stay here.

Legolas took her hand, “She is under the protection of my father, it is his say and her wish that must count. It is not the word of the Lord and Lady that is law, nor the word of Elrond, this is Thranduil’s kingdom and is ruled by his will.”

Glorfindel rose and looked the younger elf in the eyes, but Legolas did not waver. “I am sorry that you made your trip in vain, but the lady chooses to remain here for now. Come back with us to my father’s halls, and rest yourselves and your horses for a few days before you return. I am sorry that you will have to inform the Lord Elrond that the Lady Celebriel will not be returning with you. You cannot force her to leave and my father and I do not wish to. Come Celebriel,” he said and she turned to follow him.

And so it is settled, she thought, I will stay here until I return to Lorinand, whenever that may be. For now, the Greenwood is my home, she thought triumphantly.

Glorfindel and his companions were treated as honored guests. He was seated next to Thranduil at dinner that night while Celebriel took her place next to Legolas. On the surface, nothing seemed wrong but Celebriel could feel the tension between the two elf lords.

So, who will be the winner of this contest? Thranduil seemed to her like a coiled spring, his energy very apparent, Glorfindel was mighty amongst the First Born of Elrond’s house. That her fate was yet to be decided in his eyes was obvious.

Legolas could feel her apprehension as she watched the two elf lords depart from the table together and disappear into Thranduil’s study.

“Do not worry,” he whispered to her, “Father will not let you be taken against your will. Come, there is something I want to show you, something wonderful and magical. Let us walk together under the stars.”

He took her hand and they wandered amongst the long corridors until they came to the great door that led outside. Though her eyes were sharp, she could not have picked out the way they now followed, but he guided her surely and steadily through the trees until they came to a great clearing.

The stars of Elbereth pricked the night sky, casting a vague, gentle light. Legolas disappear then returned, carrying a lit torch. He used it to light several torches that sat in holders on the tree trunks, causing the clearing to come to life.

They were in a great circle which contained sawn off pieces of tree trunk that must have served as seats. A great fire ring sat in the center, and at one end was a carved wooden throne that must have served as Thranduil’s seat.

“Oh,” she breathed in wonder, imagining how it must look when the fire had been lit and Thranduil’s people were seated around the fire. 

Legolas put his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, “This is where we feast when the cold of winter ends and spring has grown warm. Soon we will feast here in honor of you, for the Lady Celebriel has come to stay. Imagine what this looks like with the fire, and my father sitting on his throne with spring flowers in his hair. There is a cooking fire behind us where we will spit and roast the stag we just caught. Our merrymaking will continue until the first light of dawn streaks the sky.”

His breath was warm on her neck and she felt herself tense, and he could feel her stiffen in his arms. “What is the matter, my lady?” he asked, “Has no man ever held you before? Have you never been kissed, my lady of Lorinand?”

“No, never,” she answered, her voice barely audible and he laughed. “So the maid of Lorinand has not been kissed? No? It is sad that one so young and lovely should not know of these things!” He lay his fingers gently on her cheek and turned her around so that she faced him. And gently, oh so gently that he would not frighten her he put his lips to her, briefly, just long enough so that she would feel them before he released her.

She felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster. She did not know that such a thing was possible. She stood trembling in his arms, not knowing if she should stay or flee. Of course, she could not find her way back, he knew that and knew it well, but had he been prepared for the effect the touch of his lips on hers would have?

He tightened his arms around her and kissed her again, not wishing to frighten her but not yet ready to let her go. He knew she was afraid, he could feel it but he brought his lips down on hers again, then without warning let her go.

“Come,” he said, “We must go back.” She followed him, not willing to trust him or herself to remain at her side. This was something that she had not been prepared for. Fight a duel, kill an enemy yes, but not this. She would be thinking of his kisses the rest of the night and perhaps beyond and cursed him for knowing it.

 

Glorfindel and his companions chose to leave the next day. He talked to Celebriel alone and away from the elves of the Greenwood and asked, “Are you sure that this is what you want, my lady?”

Before she could have answered firmly, “yes, this is what I want, I am sure of it,” but now she could only say, “There is nothing for me in Imladris. Family, yes, and a few friends, but I cannot live the life I wish under Elrond’s roof.” This said, she walked away from him not looking back. Whatever the future held for her she would now find it here.

Legolas appeared out of the shadows and grabbed her hand. “There goes your chance to leave, lady, will you not take it?

She jerked her hand out of his grasp. “I would not leave and you know this for a fact. I am not going back, there is no going back, not now, not ever.”


	15. The Beloved Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebriel realizes she is both guest and prisoner to Thranduil. Yet another messenger arrives to summon her to Imladris and she refuses. She begs Legolas, and he agrees to take her out and show her the countryside. Something unexpected happens towards the end of the journey

Celebriel began to settle into life in the Greenwood. Legolas had ceased his overtures towards her, at least for now, but he seemed to be ever present. If she minded, she did not yet know. She also became aware that she was never alone, that not far off someone was watching her. Did Elrond have her followed? Had someone always been there she was not aware of?

But gradually she became used to it and accepted it. A prisoner she might be, but at the same time, Thranduil treated her as a beloved daughter, perhaps the daughter he wished for but never had. Gifts came her way, clothing, a bow much like that of Legolas and a quiver of arrows to match. If she wondered at Thranduil's generosity she decided not to give it much thought.

She had also acquired a status that was strange to her. She came to realize that she was considered royalty because of her connections to the Noldor. She did not wish for this, she did not ask for it, but if she was treated with deference, it was a different kind than in Imladris.

And as a princess of the Greenwood, Thranduil gifted her with jewelry, jewelry that she could see was old and she wondered where it came from. One day she was wearing a magnificent necklace of emeralds and pearls that Thranduil had given her that morning. She was looking at it, admiring the luster of the pearls when Legolas stopped her.

"That belonged to my mother," he said and reached out to touch it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “Perhaps I should not wear it, I'll give it back to your father.  
“No,” he replied, “Don’t do that, you don’t need to do that. The necklace suits you, the color almost matches the color of your eyes. I am sure it made him happy to give it to you.” He touched her cheek briefly and smiled.

He started to leave but she said his name. “Legolas, could you do a favor for me?”

“If I can,” he said and smiled, “What is it you wish?”

“I’m growing restless, I feel too confined here. Until I came to Imladris I loved open spaces. In Lorinand I spent most of my time in the woods. I would dearly love to see the countryside around here. I see boats coming and going on the river, they must be going somewhere. I’d like to see what's beyond your father's caverns. I heard there's a town that does a lot of trade with the wood elves—can I see it? Winter is breaking up and the weather is warming. Could you show me, please?"

“I will ask, and I think he will say yes. Perhaps if you are away for a while you will not constantly look over your shoulder every time we receive visitors. There has been no one from Imladris asking after you for a while. One thing, we must wait one more month before we go so that we can be sure the weather will be warmer, not so wet and cold as it is now.”

The next day came the visit she dreaded, another emissary from Elrond. She received him because she could not bring herself to be discourteous and refuse.

He knelt before her, “Lady, I am sent from the Lord Elrond to inform you that the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel are coming to stay in Imladris. I have been told to ask if you will not come to Imladris to see them.”

Suddenly the desire to see her parents came over her, but she was not yet ready to forgive them. "No, I will not come to Imladris now. I am happy to hear that they have left Lorinand, for they were not welcome there. I am sure that the elves of the Golden Wood will be glad to them and their court gone. Tell Elrond I am happy here and have no wish to leave. I will see my parents again, someday, in the meantime, I have not forgotten that they took me away from my home."

The messenger stood and bowed. “I will relay your words, my lady, but your answer will not be satisfactory.”

“It is the only answer I wish to give,” she said and Legolas came from behind her and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Tell the Lord and Lady we send greeting from Thranduil’s realm,” he said, “And Celebriel is well and happy.” The messenger bowed and left.

“Are you all right?” Legolas asked, “I am sorry you had to deal with this, I know it upsets you.”  
She turned her head and briefly rested it on his shoulder. “I am all right, for now. Please convince your father to let you take me away. I have a feeling that we must do this soon or it will be too late.”

“Ah,” he said, “You share suspicions that Father and I do. I want to tell you that you are safer here than you would be in Imladris, at least for now. There are those of us who believe that something will happen that will change the world as we know it. The days of peace are growing few, the enemy may be closer than we think.”

As if in answer to her prayers, the weather warmed and the days were warm and dry. Legolas .weather did not permit sleeping in the open. Only a few elves were included in their escort, but among them were two that excelled at cooking out of doors. Three men at arms were included, for reasons that were too obvious, and both Celebriel and Legolas went well armed.

It was her first chance to live outdoors since she fled Imladris. They followed the road that ran along the Forest River, but occasionally the two would take a boat and float along the river. Celebriel had not done much traveling by water, and it amused her to trail her hand in the water or to set out strings with hooks and bait to catch fish.

One day he announced to her, “We are growing close to Esgaroth on Long Lake. It is here that men come to trade with us. The wine you drink comes from here and occasionally we purchase seafood and other goods from them. Are you familiar with men? Have you much experience with them? Do you speak their language?”

She shook her head. “I must speak every language of every elven people that walk in Middle Earth. There were men in Imladris quite frequently, some even dwelt there, but the spoke the elven tongue with us. I had not started to learn it yet, although I should have I suppose. I didn’t like it when they stared at me. I know there are not many elven women with red hair, but their stress would make me uncomfortable.”

“Well, I cannot say you will not stand out, but these are friendly people, often simple people with simple lives. We take in an exceptional son or daughter to educate them and return them to be leaders of their city. There is no one high born here, just honest men and women making their living. We exchange news and knowledge and the relationship is beneficial. Someday, when you have gained more knowledge about the world around you, you may go out more and come here and learn their ways.”

They chose to drift along the river so that they would approach Esgaroth from the water. There was not much to see, but the country had a rough beauty that Celebriel could appreciate.  
Then she saw something, something she did not expect. Amongst the mountains stood a tall peak, so tall in fact that it almost seemed to not belong.

“What is that?” she asked and pointed at the mountain that still had snow on its peak. “Why did I not see it before?”

“We are higher now than we were. That is Erebor, it belongs to the dwarves but they do not live there, I am told. Occasionally they come and mine there, for it is said to be rich in ores and minerals. Whatever they find they bring back to Moria, I am told. We get no benefit from it, but they are said to do some trading with the Lake Men. Men call it “the Lonely Mountain”.

"I can see why the range is low and then it stands up tall and stark. My mother and my uncle Finrod had dealings with the dwarves. My uncle used to have a necklace of dwarf-make, but it was lost long ago. My mother had a sword that she commissioned the dwarves to make for my uncle that she was never able to give to him. She showed it to me once, has even promised it to me if I can show her that I've earned it."

“Hmmm.” Legolas was thoughtful. Perhaps Celebriel was more of a serious warrior than he had supposed. He had thought that her parents had merely amused her by letting her participate with the army of Lorien, maybe he had been wrong. She was young yet, and though it was not unusual that they had wanted her to plight her troth with Glorfindel, perhaps they had held off, or maybe she had flat out refused. He now had the feeling that there was more to this elven maid than he or his father had seen.

No maid of the Noldor, as far as he knew, had set out on a journey into the wildlands alone as she had. It was a long journey for anyone to attempt alone, but she had not hesitated. She had an uncanny skill with bow and arrow although he had not yet seen her skills with a sword. If, as his father wished, he were to succeed in wooing her it would take longer than either had expected. And then there was her commitment to Lorinand, and she might not easily be swayed from it.  
“Can we go as far as the mountain, may I see it?” she broke into his thought train.

“There’s nothing to see,” he answered, “And if there are dwarves, I would just as soon avoid them.”

They were feted in Esgaroth, and Celebriel was proudly shown around the town. Many of the lake folk could speak Elvish, so she did not find it hard to communicate with them. They proudly showed her the smiths, the weavers, the town halls. She was gifted with an excellent length of silk fabric and thanked them graciously.

They seemed a little in awe of her, but she behaved at her gracious best. At the banquet they held that night she was grateful that they did not ask her for a speech, supposing, she guessed, that elven women did not do such things. Instead, she ate their food and drank their wine and answered questions as politely as she knew how.

She and Legolas rode back to Thranduil’s halls for the current of the river was now against them. She kept staring back at the mountain as if she expected it to tell her something, but it was silent.  
Legolas did not notice as she kept staring northwards, but suddenly she halted her horse and put her hands over her ears.

“Stop, stop!” she cried out, “I will not heed you. You only have power over me if I permit it and I do not.”  
Legolas turned his horse around and rode to her side. “What is wrong, Celebriel, who are you speaking to?”

"What?" she asked, confused, "I do not know what you are talking about! Why have I stopped my horse?"

“Do you not know what happened?” he asked her gently.

"No, and I do not wish to know. I want only to return home, to your home. And if something happened to me I do not wish to know what it was." For a moment, she grew quiet, "All the same, I think your father had best summon Mithrandir."

He pressed her to say more but she would not. They rode back to his father’s halls in silence, whatever had happened it boded no good. He was beginning to wonder if there was more than one reason she had been sent to Imladris against her will.”

To the readers:  
(Possible spoiler maybe)  
I've never established much of a timeline here, but it must be getting close to the year 1000 TA because that is when Dol Guldor will be built (and Sauron will occupy it) and then to 1100 TA when the chief of the Nazgul will establish his kingdom in Angmar and be known as the "Witch King".

I know that Galadriel and Celeborn probably didn't go to live in Imladris, but I'm using that as a literary device. For my story, they will have to. Just like Celebriel will have to be living in Lorien when the Fellowship makes their journey—no she doesn't become a member but that doesn't mean that eventually, she won't be fighting in the War of the Ring.

And in terms of my story, there is a reason why Celeborn didn't depart over the sea when Galadriel did, but I was not aware that the sons of Elrond did not follow him to the Blessed Realm.

God, I love those Tolkien reference books! I am using "The Complete Tolkien Companion" and "The Atlas of Middle Earth." I purchased both used on Amazon.


	16. The Hidden Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is going in the southern reaches of the Greenwood, something Thranduil does not understand or expect. Rumors abound, the woodmen are fleeing for their lives. What is it?

Where the Lady Celebriel was concerned Thranduil was careful not to make the mistakes that the Lord and Lady, and Lord Elrond had made. They had pushed her and pushed her too far and Celebriel had done what she seemed to excel at—push back.

He still wished for a marriage between her and Legolas, but he stepped carefully back, guessing rightly that if it were to happen, the two must come to it on their own terms.

He instructed Legolas to be ever present, but not intrusive. He had now relented and allowed Celebriel to accompany his son when he went out with his companions to patrol the Greenwood. She was not immediately to be made a member of the guard, he instructed Legolas, not yet. He was to gage her skills and capabilities and let him know what he thought. There were other women who served in the deep wood, to add one more would not be unusual.

“And make sure she does not run,” Thranduil warned him, but they found she had no desire to. At long last Celebriel was being allowed to do what she loved the most. If she considered herself first and foremost a soldier, Thranduil was coming to believe that she should be allowed to do just that. He would not send her out untested and was forming plans to see if she should merit a place in the guard of the Greenwood.

There was no doubt in his mind that she was content in a way that she could not, or would not be allowed, in Imladris. Why Elrond had not seen that it would take so little to make her happy puzzled him. She had remained longer in the Greenwood than she had in Imladris and had not once attempted to escape.

He had more on his mind now than keeping watch over an elven maid who may or may or not run away. Rumors were coming to him of evil goings on in the south of his realm. A tower was being built with inhuman powers. A black cloud hung over it that caused the woodmen who had long made it their home to flee for their very lives.

Thranduil’s realm was small and while he could keep effective watch in the north, the southern reaches by necessity were left to fend for themselves. The southern end of the forest was too remote to maintain an outpost. The elves of Lorinand were much closer and Thranduil depended on their cooperation to keep him abreast of anything unusual that went on.

But now there was little communication between the two realms. Lorinand was smaller and perilously close to the Greenwood’s southern reaches as well as Moria. Though Moria had not yet proved to be a threat, the elves would not enter there.

To hear of rumors was one thing, but even the most persistent of rumors must at times be proved. Thranduil was wise enough to know that he could not wait any longer to try to substantiate them but must send someone to see for themselves. And the best person he could send was his son.  
It was not long before Celebriel found out and though she hated to beg she was willing to do just that to be allowed to accompany Legolas. When she asked he shook his head, refusing to be cajoled into permitting her to come.

“It is too dangerous,” he said, “I will not take the risk of something happening to you.”

“But you need me, you just don’t understand.” She put her hand on her arm, “I think I know what this is and where it comes from. Who it is, I can only suspect. If I am right then your father will not be able to prevent this evil. Legolas, did I ever tell you why I was sent away from Lorien?”

“No, you did not and it was a subject that seemed to distress you so I vowed never to ask. Are you telling me that what is going on has something to do with why you were exiled?”

She led him to a small couch and they sat down. “You know who my mother is and what she bears though we are not allowed to speak of it. Legolas, when I was born my mother was wearing her ring and at that moment I became awake and I saw the last battle on Orodruin. I saw Gil Galad and Elendil fall, I saw the spirit of Sauron seem to disappear.”

“As I grew older I discovered that I could hear my mother’s thoughts, discern her feelings. And I became aware of something else, something that was trying to find her, divine her thoughts and since it could not it turned to me instead.”

“You mean—are you saying…?”

“No, I don’t know who it was, but removing me from the south seemed to help. You need me to come with you. If this is what I think it is, it is more dangerous than you think. Remember the One Ring was not destroyed and if it still exists, the evil that occupies it still exists. The Nine could be out there waiting for the chance to reveal themselves.”

“Celebriel, you know this sounds like madness,” Legolas said patiently, “That is an interesting story you told me, but it doesn’t necessarily connect to any danger to my father’s realm.”

“Very well, if you do not take me with you I will go on my own. You can lock me in my room, lock me in the dungeons but I will find my way out and follow you. What I know, what I am might keep you from harm. I can keep you from venturing too close, I can tell you if we have been heard. You need me!”

“My son, what are you saying? Of course, she cannot go with you, it is too dangerous.” Thranduil’s hands gripped the arms of his throne, “Surely you see this is folly?”

“Father, I don’t know but remember she made the journey from Imladris by herself, she does not lack for courage. And if she is right, we will have to do something to protect ourselves if this is an evil we can do nothing about.”  
Thranduil rested his chin on his hand. There were refugees arriving from the south, humble woodcutters who had lived in the forest all their lives. Radagast the Brown who had settled at Rhosgobel was doing what he could but even he would not venture close to the new threat in the southern reaches. Something had to be done.

“All right my son, take her with you but keep an eye on her. Do not let her wander off on her own. We know so little about her and what powers she had inherited from her mother.

“Don’t go on foot, I cannot spare you that long. We have ponies that can travel swiftly and pick their way through forest pathways. I do this reluctantly but I must know what is going on so I can choose my actions wisely. Make sure you and your party come home and do not let any harm come to Celebriel!”

The party that set out was solemn, even scouting parties and patrols had not excluded merriment, but this one did.

Nothing seemed to penetrate the silence until at last Celebriel spoke. “When we used to patrol the eastern fences in Lorinand we’d take boats and cross the Anduin and explore the edges of the forest. It also seemed so, empty, even though we’d hunt deer and other game to bring back home. Even the woodcutters seemed to avoid that part of the forest.”

“So you were trespassing,” said Legolas, trying to make his words sound like but in the gloom of the forest it was not possible.

“Perhaps,” she answered, “But we thought of ourselves as guardians, checking to see that all was well. If it is the Enemy and he is building a fortress in the forest, that is where he would choose. He’d build it close to Lorinand in case he planned to invade it from there someday.”  
“Why Lorinand?” asked Legolas.

“Because someday that’s where I’ll be, Mother too, maybe. He hasn’t forgotten his hatred of the elves, you know. He wants to think we’re weak, but he knows we’re not. We have long memories and we don’t forget.”

They rode as far as they dared each day, not wanting to exhaust their ponies. The first night they built a fire and cooked the fat rabbits they had caught. They sat and washed down the rabbits with the wind they had brought, and between the good meal and the wine allowed themselves to forget the reason for their journey.

Not so the second day. Something in the Greenwood seemed to have changed. The air had become thicker, the ponies’ hoof beats seemed muffled. The songbirds had seemingly disappeared and what birds there were now sounded menacing, ominous.

Celebriel put her hands over her ears, “Stop, stop!” she cried out and Legolas asked, “What is wrong?”

“Can you not hear them talking?” Celebriel replied, “I cannot understand the words but there is a language they are speaking that is foreign to me. I hear words but they mean nothing. Who taught them this language? What has caused this?”

“My lady,” said one of the elves, “We hear nothing of which you speak, in fact, there is mostly silence reigning in these woods. There are few if any birds at all, but none that speak in words.”

 

“Perhaps we should travel to Rhosgobel and seek out Radagast the Brown,” said Legolas,   
“Perhaps he would understand why you hear these things that we do not.”

“It would do no good and would lengthen our journey,” said Celebriel dully, “He would not understand any more than I do. Besides, Gandalf told me that he is seldom in his home and spends his time wandering the woods looking after the birds and animals. He does not concern himself much with men or elves. Am I frightened? Yes, I am but I want to know if the Enemy has invaded these woods. If he has I must get word to Amroth. He will need to know what is at stake.”

“If you say so,” said Legolas doubtfully, but decided to heed her words.

The forest grew darker as they grew closer to where the tower must be. The elves could see in the dark and their ponies had eyes that were better than humans’ but relied on their riders to tell them where to go.

The path was becoming barely a track now that might have been invisible to mortal eyes but Legolas, Celebriel, and their companions could read it as if it were a silver thread laid on the forest floor. It grew narrow at times, so narrow that the elves found it expedient to dismount and lead their ponies until it grew wider again.

“We should leave them someplace safe and continue on foot,” Celebriel said, “It will be easier if they can stay hidden, we can return to them later.”

“Do you think we are close, my lady?” asked one of the elves.

“I can feel something, like the pricking of my hairs at the back of my neck. And I can hear what seems like humming. And look at how dark the wood are, like a thick black cloud. Where have the birds gone? The animals? Even the humming of insects is missing.”

She did not mention the voices she seemed to hear, soft, inaudible almost yet ever-present. I must be careful not to let it know I’m here, she thought. I had never thought I could come so close to danger like this, but I have to, they need me. I’m the only one who can warn them when the danger is too near!

Some had drawn knives, some held their bows with an arrow at the ready. Legolas put Celebriel behind him and she kept her hand on his shoulder as they drew forward, step by quiet cautious step.

No eyes but elvish eyes could have seen through the black mist, but Celebriel, born of Galadriel of the Blessed Realm, could see through the blackness better even than the elves of the Greenwood. No one could have heard their footsteps for the elves go quietly when they wish and now they desired that none should hear.

“Just ahead,” she spoke no words but sent her thoughts to Legolas, “A tall black tower whose color seems to absorb even the darkness around it.

A tower was growing by unseen hands. The elves watched in horror as it grew, seemingly on its own. It seemed to be growing out of the earth, slowly but steadily becoming taller.

“Something unearthly and dark is causing this to grow,” said one of the elves in a voice so quiet that only their ears could hear. “And it will be completed soon,” agreed another, “This is can only be the work of a dark force, such as has not been seen in middle earth for ages.”

“We have to leave,” said Celebriel, “Now. He’s telling me that if we don’t leave we will be seen and we may not be able to escape.”

“Who is he?” asked Legolas, but she only shook her head. “Come then,” he said and took her hand, “This place is evil and I will not remain here. We can tell Father what we saw. I am afraid you are right, Celebriel, this is an evil he is powerless to deal with. The Southern reaches of the woods must become a forbidden zone now. Evil has arrived and now we must be watchful.”


End file.
